Helen of Troy
by Archaeopteryx Feather
Summary: G1, AU. When a Decepticon mind-control plot goes awry, Autobot Air Commander Starscream falls madly in love with the person he hates most. Will he win her heart—or end up wrapped in a straightjacket by Optimus Prime, who is beginning to suspect that his Air Commander has lost his marbles?


_What if Skyfire was never lost in the ice? What if he and Starscream joined the Autobots instead? __A humorous and bizarre situation results. _

_Any suggestions for improvement would be much appreciated! Constructive criticism will be hoarded like gold and gems. :)_

* * *

**Helen of Troy**

Archaeopteryx

"If I were leader of the Autobots, the Decepticons would have been defeated eons ago," Starscream declared, raising a clenched fist. "I should be supreme leader of everything!"

The Seeker posed triumphantly, chest thrown out and head held high. Skyfire couldn't quite stifle the scandalized laugh that slipped out of him at the sight. A wave of embarrassed giggles rippled through the command center. Optimus just shook his head and looked on with bemusement. At his side, Elita-1 tried to look outraged.

"It's difficult to believe that the Decepticon high command actually behaves like that," Prowl remarked.

Starscream looked at him innocently. "Where does the Decepticon high command come into it? I was just expressing an opinion."

Ironhide gave him a friendly shove and Starscream leapt away, laughing.

"Why, you arrogant young upstart. I oughta—"

Starscream continued, "When I'm leader, you'll have to do whatever I say, so—hey cut it out!" The Seeker sought refuge behind Skyfire's back. "Kill him, Skyfire! He annoyed me!"

Skyfire offered an apologetic smile to Ironhide.

"Emergency! Code B! Code B!" Bumblebee yelled. "It's _Buckrinia_!"

The Autobots winced as though stung. Skyfire turned to look at Starscream, who was suddenly scowling.

Old Ms. Buckrinia lived on a farm several miles east of the mountain, right next to the road which the Autobots used when they responded to emergencies. She was as ornery as a one-eyed coyote, and in spite of the fact that she was apparently also stone deaf, she was always complaining about the noise they made while driving past her house or fighting with the Decepticons or doing anything at all, for that matter. Usually she just sent them angry letters, but occasionally she would take it upon herself to harangue them personally.

"There are times," Optimus mused, "When I rather would see Megatron and a Decepticon army flying overhead than Ms. Buckrinia's car sputtering up the road."

"I'll deal with her," Starscream said. "I hope she brought her shotgun, 'cause she's gonna need it!"

Without further ado the Seeker stalked outside to intercept Ms. Buckrinia's rickety car. Skyfire couldn't help but flinch as Ms. Buckrinia deliberately rammed her vehicle into Starscream's foot. The Seeker returned the favor by giving the vehicle a kick which sent one of the rusty fenders flying off.

"Communist pig!" Ms. Buckrinia shouted out the window.

"Rust spot!" Starscream shot back.

"Alright, let's keep it calm," Optimus said, looking sharply at Starscream. "What brings you here today, Ms. Buckrinia?"

* * *

"What's Starscream doing now?" Disharmony whispered.

"I can't tell, there's a rock in the way," Discord replied irritably, adding, "I think he's chewing out that rattletrap of an Autobot for showing up in bad shape. I wonder why it doesn't transform?"

"Maybe it can't," Disharmony suggested, motioning for the fieldglasses. The two femmes, a neon pink tank and a pale yellow flyer, were both lying underneath the holographic projection of some large rocks. Some 500 meters from where they were hiding, the entrance to the Autobot base could be glimpsed through rocks and pine trees.

"Maybe," Discord said dubiously, stroking her broad pink chin. "I don't like this."

"Oh, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We got our holographic blind up, no problem there, we've got Elita-1 around, and there's every indication our little love darts are going to work."

"It's been _too_ easy, that's what makes me nervous. Suppose Starscream's chewing that Autobot out for not finding us sooner?"

"Really, you do think the most dreary thoughts, Discord."

"Well, here's another one—what if the Autobots think this is an assassination attempt, huh?" Both femmes grimaced at the thought.

"Let's focus on the mission, okay?" Disharmony said. "We've come too far to back out now."

Disharmony (formerly known as Harmony, but Disharmony got a lot more respect over in the Decepticon Psychological Warfare Department so she had changed it) had been a couples' psychologist before the war, specializing in helping Decepticons and Autobots alike to find and keep that perfect someone. Now, of course, she regretted pairing up the Autobot femmes with Decepticon mechs and vice versa, but oh well, they ought to know that they couldn't let a few million years of civil war get in the way of true love. Discord (formerly known as Accord) was a neuronet analyst whose job was, as she put it, "To find the sources of people's neuroses and make them worse."

The two femmes really had nothing in common except their gender and their common annoyance at being the only eligible Decepticon females within a 30 megamile radius. To enjoy their common woes, they had taken to having lunch together, a time they would spend complaining about their romantic problems and plotting how they could make the lives of their hoardes of unwanted suitors miserable.

During one of these little lunchtime sessions, Discord had made a joking remark that if she could only package up all the jealous bickering that went on over her and infuse it into the Autobot psyche, it would do more damage than the efforts of the whole Psychological Warfare Department put together. Disharmony had laughed:

"Imagine all of the love triangles! We'd have to break up their fights when we went into battle just so that we could have a turn at clonking 'em!"

"Yeah, imagine poooooor Elita-1, awash with suitors!" (Elita-1 was a favorite target for disparagement when they were feeling annoyed about femmes who had the perfect love life and never had to deal with a pack of crazed mechs fighting over them.)

"Did you know you can induce artificial love by electrifying the apicatorminal mirraneuroprocessors?" Discord had said then, sipping her energon cube.

"Yeah, my clients were always asking me if I could do that to get their beloveds to love them back. But it was illegal of course," Disharmony replied.

"Ha, too bad, you could have made some really interesting love triangles, I'll bet," Discord smirked.

"Yeah, yeah," Disharmony had agreed readily. "Just think of Optimus Prime and Perceptor fighting over Elita-1!" They broke up into laughter at the thought.

"Or how about Starscream and Optimus Prime fighting over Elita-1?" The very idea sent them into hysterics.

"I bet we could do it, you know." Discord said when she finally managed to stop laughing. There was sudden silence.

And now here they were three weeks later, ready to try out their little experiment on Air Commander Starscream, the highest-ranking Autobot around without any known girlfriend. If they succeeded, they would have glory beyond their wildest dreams and could affort to hire bodyguards to crush anyone who so much as looked at them the wrong way. If they failed (and the other Decepticons found out what they were up to) it would mean instant humiliation and millions of years of the stupidest pickup lines that had ever been invented by the minds of transformers, and they'd probably have to change their names and body structures and join the Autobots because otherwise they'd never live it down.

Then there was downright scary question of what would happen if the _Autobots_ found out about them: they would either be put in personality component storage for the rest of the war, or—worst case scenario—shot on the spot. Disharmony had sudden misgivings as she watched Discord slide the gun case out in front of her and begin to carefully remove and assemble the components of the sniper rifle. But she herself nevertheless unscrewed the protective caps on the tiny, transparent needledarts, exposing the sharp tip that should—if it struck at just the right angle and speed—be sufficient to pierce through their target's armor, leaving only the most unnoticeable hole to mark its passage. Once lodged in the neurocircuitry, the dart would convert itself into a factory which could derail Starscream's normal brain impulses and reroute them to the apicatorminal mirraneuroprocessor, causing uncontrollable feelings of helpless love toward the first femme he laid eyes upon. And since Elita-1, Optimus Prime's long-time girlfriend, was the only femme in the Autobot base... Discord set the sniper rifle up on its stand and peered into the targeting screen.

"Don't miss," Disharmony muttered.

"Look, you want to do this?" Discord said.

* * *

"You rusty rodent-infested trout brain!" howled Buckrinia.

"Wretched little oxidized Insecticon!" yelled Starscream back.

"Starscream—" Optimus said.

"Get a duck caught in your intake!" Buckrinia screeched, shaking her purple-veined fist.

"Go swallow a fly!"

"If I had my shotgun—"

"Then go get it!" Starscream shouted.

"Starscream!" Optimus said again, louder. "I'll handle this." His tone brooked no disagreement.

"Freak of nature!" shrilled Buckrinia. She swung the knobby end of her cane toward his foot. Starscream jerked back just in time.

"B-but—" Starscream sputtered, glancing from Optimus to Buckrinia and back again. "She—"

"I heard," Optimus said in the same tone. "Now I'll—"

Starscream didn't actually hear the rest of what Optimus was saying. One second he was retreating from Ms. Buckrinia's wild swings, the next he felt a minute pain in his head. An odd feeling began to coalesce inside of him. He stood still and looked down at Ms. Buckrinia; immediately she began to assault his foot. How brave it was for such a tiny, helpless creature to assault a heavily armed Cybertronian warrior. _Brave, ha! More like stupid_, he thought derisively, but nevertheless the unexpected spark of admiration grew.

"You ought to be hauled to the scrapyard as junk!" Buckrinia screeched, loose strands of her iron grey (_lovely shade, really_, he thought) hair whipping out of her tight bun and flying around her wrinkled face. _What astonishing eyes she has too_, he noticed for the first time. They reminded him of the different electric blue hues of a welding torch as it sizzled through metal, causing it to bubble and run with its scorching heat.

"Ms. Buckrinia," he heard Optimus saying in a far off voice, "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave now. We can discuss this at another time, when tempers have cooled."

"You big grey chicken!" Buckrinia shouted.

"I don't get it! He should be groveling at Elita-1's feet right now! Why is he just standing there?!" Discord growled nervously.

"You must have missed! Give me that!" Disharmony demanded, snatching the sniper rifle out of Discord's hands. She focused it on Starscream's forehead, then gently squeezed off a shot. Nothing. No reaction, no indication that the needle had even hit its target except that Starscream rubbed his head and looked around puzzledly. Meanwhile, Discord had grabbed the sniper rifle back.

"I'm going to try for the upper kitiriom package—that might work." She aimed carefully at the upper right quarter of his forehead and fired. Zero. Starscream was just standing there, not even realizing that three weeks of work and a quart of sheer nerve was going down the drain. "Fall on your knees and grovel, blast you!" Discord hissed. And suddenly she got her wish.

"Ms. Buckrinia, I am soooooo, soooo sorry for everything that I was saying just now. I was completely and totally wrong!" Starscream dropped to his knees to bring himself down to the level of the spectacularly gorgeous apparation who was deigning to grace him with the gentle touch of her cane. "Won't you please, please forgive me?" Starscream put his hands together pleadingly and tried to look as small and pathetic as possible. He didn't want to frighten this radiant dream away! Ahhh, if only she would stay forever! Dimly he was aware of gasps and exclamations from the others, but he couldn't care less what they thought. There was only one person he cared about impressing now, and that was sweet, gentle, brave Buckrinia. How he failed to perceive her inward nobility and outward loveliness mere minutes ago was incomprehensible, but that didn't matter in the least now that he did see it.

"You're crazy, too!" she shouted. Sweeter words he had never heard!

"I am crazy!" Starscream cried. "You make me that way."

"I think he's got a blowout in his brainbox!" he heard somewhat exclaim.

"Come on, Ms. Buckrinia, time to go," Optimus said, his hand suddenly intruding between her and him. The Autobot leader pushed her gently towards her car.

"Get away from me, ya hoodlum!" shrieked Buckrinia, now banging Optimus with her cane.

"Leave her alone!" Starscream howled. He leapt to his feet and hurled his weight against Optimus, smashing him away. Elita-1 managed to catch Optimus just before he fell. "I'll take you to your car," Starscream said to Ms. Buckrinia, "and I'll escort you home. And guard your house in case the Decepticons attack. And if you need any work done—"

"Don't threaten me!" Ms. Buckrinia shouted. "I can take care of myself! I may be an old woman but I'm not feeble!" She stalked over to her car and climbed inside.

"No, no!" Starscream said instantly. "You're the bravest person I've ever met! I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to imply anything like that, I was just trying to say that maybe if you wanted I could perhaps—"

"Stay away from me!" Ms. Buckrinia yelled out the window. The car rattled to life and she took off down the hill at a wild clip. _She __too __must love the thrill of speed to drive like that,_ Starscream thought as the car whipped around a curve and disappeared. Ms. Buckrinia was undoubtedly the most glorious creature he had ever seen or imagined. He sighed deeply, already feeling pangs of longing in her absence. What a beautiful, amazing femme!

"Oh Buckrinia, oh sweet, sweet Buckrinia," he whispered, planting a fervent kiss on the ground where she had been standing a moment before. Even the dirt she walked on was—

"What's the matter with you?" Ironhide's disbelieving voice suddenly interrupted his musings. He turned around and saw that the others were staring at him as though they had just been told the Decepticons had won the war and Megatron was repainting Cybertron pink. Feeling rather embarrassed at having forgotten they were watching, he climbed back to his feet, snapping,

"Me? Nothing's wrong with me—in fact I've never felt better in my life!" Then suddenly remembering what Optimus had done, he stabbed a finger at his leader and said sharply, "But if you _ever_ lay a hand on her again, it'll be the last thing you'll _ever_ do." Optics grew wider and jaws hung lower. Annoyed at being stared at, Starscream stalked around them and headed back into the base.

"What was that all about?" Bumblebee exclaimed.

"I wish I knew," Optimus replied in a puzzled tone. "Ratchet, perhaps you had better—"

"I'm on it," Ratchet said. "That looked like a malfunction if I've ever seen one."

"Did he call her 'sweet Buckrinia?'" Sideswipe muttered.

"I don't believe this!" Blaster said.

"Surreal," Mirage observed.

* * *

"Alright, at least *something* happened," Disharmony said, putting down the field glasses. "We don't know what, but..."

"Uh, actually, I think I do know," Discord said, tapping her on the shoulder and pointing over at the nearby road. The junky Autobot Starscream had been berating earlier was coming by them.

"What?" Disharmony asked, not understanding. "Is it a femme or something?" She couldn't tell while it was in vehicle mode.

"That's _not_ an Autobot." Discord answered, a smile in her voice. Disharmony raised her field glasses and took a careful look. Realization dawned.

"Great Cybertron, we've made him fall in love with a human woman!"

"The first femme he laid eyes on!" Discord said. "Of course with three of those things in his system he would have fallen for a rock if it had a pretty face." They watched, holding back snickers, as the car and its driver—the oldest, ugliest looking flesh creature they had ever seen—passed by in a cloud of dust, clattering down the rough road.

"Now_ that's_ a likely looking couple," Disharmony observed, and she curled up in a paroxysm of mirth.

"Did you like how he kissed the ground she walked on?" Disharmony said with a gleeful grin.

"Yeah, how come our suitors never do that?" Discord demanded. "I say we raise our standards!"

"Hear hear!"

* * *

"Hey, Starscream, how about a checkup?" Ratchet had decided to take the direct approach. He walked straight over to where Starscream was standing in front of the main computer screen, typing commands into the console. "We were all kind of worried about you after what happened out there, and I thought we ought to do a scan or two to make sure that everything's okay."

"What?" Starscream said, seeming to have just noticed him. "A what?"

"A scan," Ratchet repeated.

"What for? I feel fine," Starscream said, stabbing a few buttons on the computer console to bring up a satellite image of a little farmhouse.

"Yes, but you always feel fine, even when—" Ratchet had intended to elaborate on Starscream's habit of answering "I'm fine" even when he was escaping from the medbay on all fours because he couldn't walk, but the Seeker didn't seem to be listening anymore. Instead, he had planted his elbows on the console and rested his head in his hands, staring at the farmhouse, which was now magnified sufficiently that individual chickens could be seen scratching in the grass and fluffing themselves in the dust of the front yard. "Hey!" Ratchet said. "I'm not taking no for an answer, so come on."

"Oh, alright! In a few minutes!" Starscream said, not even looking at him. His face was fixed on the computer screen with as eager an expression of anticipation as Ratchet had ever seen.

"What are you doing?" Ratchet asked, wondering if he had stumbled on a clue to Starscream's unexpectedly bizarre behavior.

"I'm waiting for the most beautiful femme in the whole universe," Starscream breathed, not looking away from the monitor. Ratchet had to replay the sentence a few times before he actually registered its meaning.

"Eh—What?" he exclaimed. "You're serious!" Starscream just nodded impatiently. "...Well, who is it?"

"Buckrinia," Starscream sighed meltingly, and at that instant the chickens on the monitor scattered as old Ms. Buckrinia's car pulled into the front yard. Starscream gasped and stabbed the magnification button until Ms. Buckrinia's pinched visage filled the entire screen—a rather disturbing sight. Even pixelated by the extreme close-up, her face was wrinkled like a sour grape and her eyes glared brightly and suspiciously about as though she knew she was being monitored. And Ratchet was quite certain that none of those wrinkles were smile lines. "I'd give up my wings to be yours," Starscream exclaimed, frantically adjusting the settings in order to keep Ms. Buckrinia in view. "And my rank! And everything else!" But unheeding of his fervid words, Ms. Buckrinia disappeared through the front door of her house. Starscream sighed deeply, optics dimming. _Not possible_, Ratchet thought, his mind denying what he was seeing and hearing. It was just not possible.

"You're telling me that you're...in love...with _Ms. Buckrinia?!_" he finally demanded.

"Who wouldn't be?" Starscream said in that same enraptured tone, finally looking away from the viewscreen at him.

"Ahh, ahhh..." Ratchet couldn't think of anything to say to that. This was _not_ happening.

"But I hope no one is," Starscream said, his face suddenly growing dark. He began to pace in a circle. "A femme like that must have hundreds of suitors. What if she's already spoken for?" He froze rigidly, a panicky expression breaking out on his face.

"No, no—" Ratchet said quickly, trying to forestall a shrill outburst. "She's called _Ms._ Buckrinia for a reason—humans here are called Mrs., not Ms. when they're taken."

"Thank goodness!" Starscream exclaimed. "It's not too late then!"

"Yeah, well, uh..." Ratchet was once again at a loss for words. Then he remembered why he had come. "Hey, you've still got to get a checkup!" Now he was more certain that ever that something was very, very funny somewhere in Starscream's neurocircuitry. Although notoriously changeable, the Air Commander was not the kind of bot who would fall helplessly in love at the drop of a hat...was he? Surely you couldn't hate someone's guts one moment and then be fervently in love them the next!

"Checkup? I have no time for such trivialities," Starscream declared. "I—"

"That wasn't a request," Ratchet said firmly. "Optimus himself said—"

"Bother Optimus!" Starscream snapped. "I have an important mission and I must carry it out immediately!" Before Ratchet could reply, Starscream had leapt up, transformed into jet mode right there in the command center, and gone streaking off down the corridor.

"Hey, stop him!" Ratchet shouted, transforming and racing down the corridor after the fleeing Seeker. But he was too slow—by the time he reached the exit all that could be seen was a silver dot in the distance and a crowd of stunned Autobots slowly peering up from where they had thrown themselves on the ground. "Don't just lie there!" Ratchet exclaimed. "We've got to go after him!"

* * *

Starscream was literally screaming with joy as he roared up through the clouds and tumbled back down again, weaving in and out of the bunchy white masses. Below him the waters of the North Atlantic sparkled in the sunlight, the wind whipping up little foamy crests on the waves. He was certain he'd lost the others by now, which was perfect because it meant they wouldn't be able to interfere with his plan, which was so ingenious that Optimus Prime would no doubt consider it reckless and foolhardy. Ha, he couldn't have cared less! He was going to impress Ms. Buckrinia so much that her other wannabe boyfriends would look like mangy turbofoxes by comparison—_aaaahh, my beautiful one! Soon, I will be yours and you will be mine!_ The thought made him so happy that for a moment he couldn't stop looping around for joy.

But at last he forced himself back to his mission. Straightening out and feeling slightly more serious, he swooped down and roared low across the surface of the water, leaving a frothy wake behind him.

A few minutes later the island he was looking for appeared, a dark conical speck on the face the ocean. Perfect—middle of nowhere, uninhabited, nothing around for forever. He would easily be able to pick up any Cybertronians who might approach, whether by sea or sky. That was necessary, because he didn't want any _uninvited_ intruders, Autobot or Decepticon.

Circling the island once to refamiliarize himself with the general layout—it was a cone volcano just barely peeping out of the sea, its dark sides softened by green foliage—he landed near the rocky crater at the top. _Hmm... _He needed to find a good backdrop. Something impressive, something that would say, "Fear me, Decepticons!"

After a quick search, he decided to stand on the rim of the crater. There was a dark plume of ash and volcanic gases rising from the volcano that would billow up behind him like the smoke of a battle, hopefully striking a smidgen of dread into the enemy.

He did a quick self-diagnostic and was pleased with the results. His systems couldn't be in better repair, although he had burned up an eighth of his energy reserves flying over. No matter; doubtless whoever responded to his challenge to one-on-one combat—hopefully Skywarp, but he would take Thundercracker too—would burn up the same amount of fuel getting to the island. If he won, then he would indisputably prove that he was the bravest and best of all Buckrinia's suitors, and would easily be able to win her heart. Ah, the sheer delight of it all!

Thrilled at the thought, he activated his communicator and spoke confidently, "Air Commander Starscream to the Decepticon base."

* * *

"Megatron," Soundwave intoned, stepping over to where Megatron and Skywarp were pouring over the schematics of the base's defense system. (Or at least Megatron was; Skywarp appeared to be picking at a scratch on his arm.)

"What is it, Soundwave?" Megatron said, placing his finger on the map and looking up.

"A transmission from Starscream."

Skywarp and every other Decepticon in the room paused what they were doing and turned towards Soundwave. An Autobot transmission, coming to their base? Unheard of!

"What does he want?" Megatron asked with interest, stepping over to the communications station.

"To speak with you; he said nothing else," Soundwave's voice dropped apologetically. A crowd of curious Decepticons had converged on the communications station. Skywarp shoved them aside to get to the front. Anything concerning his Autobot counterpart was enough to get the Seeker's full attention. (A regretfully infrequent situation, Megatron reflected—especially with those two femmes from the Psychological Warfare Department around!)

"Put him on," Megatron ordered. A second later the familiar face of the Autobot Air Commander filled the viewscreen.

It had always seemed to Megatron that Starscream was a Decepticon who had ended up on the wrong side. The feeling wasn't merely based on the fact that the Air Commander had the sleek Seeker body design which was far more predominant among the Decepticons than the Autobots; rather, it was something intangible—Starscream's worldview and his approach to making war—that struck Megatron as being more Decepticon than not. At any rate, Starscream was now striking a confident pose on what appeared to be the rim of an active volcano, a lazy plume of smoke drifting up behind him and dulling the blue line of the ocean.

"Starscream... Why have you contacted me?" Megatron drawled, letting his voice take on a pleasant conversational note as though the call were an everyday occurrence. He was aware of his warriors behind him, focused intently on the viewscreen.

"Megatron," Starscream said in a quick, satisfied acknowledgement, "I stand ready to prove to all Cybertron that Autobots are superior in the air as well as on the ground. I will meet Skywarp in one-on-one combat—if he dares to accept my offer?" Starscream looked into the camera with a mocking smile on his lips, a deliberate attempt to provoke the contest. He needn't have bothered.

"I accept!" Skywarp retorted instantly, "Where and when?"

"Right here, right now," Starscream replied, pointing down at the ground he was standing on. "But come alone, Skywarp, or I shall leave immediately."

"Wait," Megatron interjected. These were suspicious terms; why should the challenge be held right away, and why not in front of the troops of both combatants? He wondered what Starscream's reaction would be to a change of venue. "We shall hold the challenge a week from now, at a place of _our_ choosing. He carefully watched Starscream's expression. The Autobot was so very readable he needn't have tried. A quick series of emotions ranging from annoyance to dismay to sudden satisfaction flickered over Starscream's face as he finally made his decision. The Seeker stabbed a finger out of the viewscreen at them, exclaiming,

"Very well! I agree on one condition—that once I have defeated Skywarp, then you, Megatron, will meet me in battle afterwards at the place and time of _my_ choosing."

"A bold proposition," Megatron said, lips curling in a smile. Starscream was an audacious one. Either that or this was a trap, although he couldn't see Optimus Prime giving his approval to such a tactic.

"Too bad it's not going to happen, since you won't survive your encounter with _me_," Skywarp declared, looking annoyed at having lost the chance to have it out on the spot with his long-term rival. The other flyers were watching their commander closely, and Megatron could see that Skywarp's confident assertion met with their approval.

"We shall see!" Starscream said. "Very well then, where would you like to hold our little showdown?"

"We'll let you know," Megatron stated, then gestured to Soundwave to cut the transmission before Starscream could reply. The Autobot was just opening his mouth when the screen went black, the transmission terminated. Megatron savored a mental image of an irritated Starscream glaring into nothingness. There was a brief moment of silence, and then everyone started talking at once. A slow smile spread across Megatron's face. This was really shaping up to be an interesting week.

* * *

"Skyfire, he's coming back towards you!" Blaster's voice came over his comm. Skyfire had already detected Starscream's approach on his radar several minutes earlier. An astrosecond later, a familiar red and silver F-15 punched out of the cloudbank on Skyfire's right and curved around to fly next to him.

"Copy that, stand by," Skyfire replied anyway, speeding up to match Starscream's velocity.

"Skyfire, the most wonderful thing happened," Starscream exclaimed in a giddy voice, "I've fallen in love with Ms. Buckrinia!"

"Uh uh," Skyfire said. "Your little joke spooked Ratchet bad. We've all been looking for you for over an hour. He's convinced you're malfunctioning. Why did you slam Optimus like that?"

"Oh, he was being annoying," Starscream said. "Maybe now he'll be more respectful towards Ms. Buckrinia."

"Please, let's be serious."

"I am serious. I've never been more serious in my whole entire life."

"Starscream..."

"I'm not kidding, honest!"

"You're acting very strangely."

"What's so strange about me being in love with the most wonderful femme in the universe?"

"Because she's a very elderly human woman whom you claimed you hated only yesterday!" Skyfire exclaimed.

"That was a lifetime ago!" Starscream cried, then added, "I don't know how I couldn't see her for what she truly was earlier—all I know is that I see it now, and it's the most marvelous thing I've ever seen!"

Skyfire was silent for a moment. Maybe Ratchet was actually onto something. "Ah...so, what made you change your mind about her?"

"When I saw how brave she was," Starscream replied, voice glowing with admiration. "Who else would have the nerve to attack someone forty times their size unarmed?"

"Spike?" Skyfire suggested, only half in jest. Starscream made a dismissive noise.

"He has more courage than sense."

"How is that different from Ms. Buckrinia?"

"Because—well, uh—" As Starscream stumbled about trying to explain the contradiction, Skyfire descended through the clouds and curved off towards base. Starscream matched pace and they skimmed low over the landscape, trees and fields rushing by underneath them. "Well, it's hard to explain," Starscream finally admitted. "But I could tell that she knew what she was doing and chose to do it anyway."

"You pushed Optimus pretty hard," Skyfire said cautiously.

"He was making her leave! By force!" Starscream said, swerving about in agitation as he flew. "Naturally I couldn't let him do that."

There was a pause as they both pulled up to go over a hill and then dropped back down the other side.

"So what have you been up to for the last few hours?" Skyfire finally asked, but no answer was immediately forthcoming. At last he prodded, "Well?"

"I'll tell you later," Starscream finally said, a peculiar note in his voice. Skyfire tried to guess at what his friend was holding out on but nothing sprang to mind; who knew what Starscream would do in this state of mind? Shoving Optimus Prime was so completely out of character.

"So," Starscream said casually, "Do you think I should paint myself black for the binding ceremony? I hear that is a human tradition."

"I—ah...Have you asked Ms. Buckrinia if she wishes to marry you?" Skyfire asked tentatively, hoping that that wasn't what Starscream had been up to.

"No, not yet, but she'll agree when I ask," Starscream said.

"Hmmm..." Skyfire wondered how he could tactfully phrase his next remark. "And why do you think that? You know that very few alien races approve of marrying outside of one's species. She may not wish to marry a Cybertronian, you know. " _She may not wish to marry someone she hates either._

"Don't worry about it," Starscream said with a playfully mischievous voice that Skyfire had learned to associate with an attempt at a cover up.

"Starscream..." Skyfire said seriously.

"Oh look, we're here!" Starscream exclaimed, zipping downwards and careening towards the mouth of the volcano.

"Don't avoid the question," Skyfire called after him. But Starscream transformed and descended into the open crater below. As Skyfire descended at a less precipitous pace, he distinctly heard Starscream shouting, "Spike! Spike!"

* * *

"The flower! What color is the flower?" Starscream demanded, leaning over Spike. The young boy was backed up against the side of the Ark's computer console like a cornered rat. He felt like he was being interrogated, and after hearing about Starscream's weird behavior earlier that morning he was more than a bit concerned. Looking up into Starscream's hexagonal blue optics, Spike gulped as he recalled how he had quite literally gotten off on the wrong foot with the Seeker.

When he had been exploring the Ark back in the early days of the Autobots' arrival, he had walked around a corner and almost bumped into Starscream's leg. The jet had been chatting with Hound about sand dunes, and engrossed in the conversation, Starscream hadn't noticed Spike come up behind him. But Hound had. He had pointed behind Starscream and cheerfully announced, "Meet my new friend Spike." To Spike, it seemed that what happened next was that Starscream deliberately turned, raised his foot, and stepped on him. The next thing he knew, it was dark, he was squeezed tightly in a metal cylinder, and he could hear muffled screams coming from outside. A split second later the metal cylinder was jerked up, light and air returned, and he could see a very surprised Starscream hopping backwards on one foot. The Autobot had quite innocently twirled around to greet Spike, and in doing so had planted his heel thruster directly over top of him. Spike spent the next twenty minutes reassuring Hound and Starscream that he was really alright, and in fact he had been no worse for the wear for the experience. Nonetheless, he still felt his heart start pounding whenever the Air Commander walked by.

"I _said,_ what color is the flower?" Starscream repeated irritably as Spike stared nervously up at him.

"Uh, red is the usual color, I guess..." Spike answered, running a hand through his hair.

"Red!" Starscream confirmed, then fired off another question. "Matte or glossy?"

"Flowers don't have lustres," Spike said. "You just have to take what you get."

"And what type of flower should I use?" Starscream probed.

"Maybe a carnation?" Spike suggested.

"Is that the best kind?"

"Well, lots of people wear them." He could feel his heart clamoring in his chest.

"Alright, now, about the combat—" Starscream began, but his question was cut off by Ratchet's annoyed yell.

"Starscream!"

"Oh, what now?" Starscream muttered, straightening up. Relieved, Spike watched an irate Ratchet approach.

"Don't try to escape!" Ratchet warned. "You're going in for a check up even if I have to drag you to the medbay by the intakes and have Skyfire sit on you. And that's no idle threat!"

"I don't have time for—hey, let go!" Starscream protested. But it was too late; Ratchet had already seized him by the arm and begun hustling him bodily towards the repair bay. "I can walk! I can walk!"

* * *

Five minutes later Starscream was sitting sulkily on a repair table. Wires protruded from his headpiece, leading over to a computer console. A medical scanner was running humming noisily as it made a full body sweep of his exostructure. Ratchet studied the scan's progress on a monitor.

"Having any luck yet, _doctor?_" Starscream asked, his tone making the remark a challenge.

"Not yet," Ratchet replied grudgingly, then added ominously, "But if there's anything, I'll find it."

"And just how long is this scan going to take?" Starscream drummed his fingers on the table impatiently.

"One more minute. Sit still or we'll have to do it again."

"I don't see why this is necessary," Starscream complained. "Why does everybody think that me falling in love is so strange?"

"It came on too suddenly and it was accompanied by weird behavior," Ratchet answered flatly, typing a few notes on a datapad.

"You've never heard of love at first sight?" Starscream said. "Suddenly, I just realized how wonderful Ms. Buckrinia was."

"Yeah, but you hated her just yesterday. That to me says that something is wrong with you."

"Well, we'll see about that," Starscream responded, a skeptical smile playing across his lips. The scanner beeped: scan complete. "Can I go now?" Starscream demanded.

"No. First you're going to answer some questions."

Starscream tried not to wince as Ratchet reached over and wiggled one of the wires protruding from his head. He couldn't wait to get away from the stupid examination and get back to the important work of courting Ms. Buckrinia. If Ratchet would only leave the room for five seconds... Starscream glanced at the door hopefully.

Ratchet typed a few commands into the computer, and a translucent picture of a Seeker's head came up on the screen behind him. What looked like a tiny lightning storm flickered inside of it. Starscream guessed that the lightning represented his own thought impulses. Ratchet turned to face him.

"This part of the examination will check the responses of your neurocircuitry to emotional stimuli. You need to answer the questions as truthfully and fully as you can. Your responses will be sealed information—"

"I know, get on with it," Starscream said, waving his hand. The lightning storm briefly intensified as he spoke. Starscream watched it, mildly interested. Ratchet fired off his first question:

"Are you in love?"

"No, I'm not," Starscream answered sarcastically. The lightning storm pulsed gently.

"With whom?" Ratchet queried, not missing a beat.

"With Ms. Buckrinia!" Starscream answered, and his very soul felt like it had taken flight and begun to zoom about the room. The lightning storm flashed and flickered furiously.

"Why?" Ratchet asked, watching the lightning intently. Starscream's optics lit up as he considered the question. There were so _many_ reasons!

"Because she's the wonderful femme I've ever met," he sighed at last, picturing her face in his mind. "She's brave, she's smart, she's funny, and oh—her eyes! She has the most amazing eyes, Ratchet! They're like little blue iridescent paint chips. And her hair is like a snarl of stripped wires, and her lips—"

"Ahhhh, that's enough!" Ratchet said hurriedly.

"She's marvelous," Starscream added eagerly. "And smart too."

"I know."

"And she has the most beautiful voice—"

"Okay, I get the picture," Ratchet said. "Now how do you feel about this examination?"

"It's a waste of time that could be better spent picking flowers," Starscream answered absently. He was still thinking about Ms. Buckrinia's melodious voice. _You big grey chicken!_ Would that those words could lull him into recharge each night! Suddenly he noticed that Ratchet was staring at him. Just staring. "What?" he demanded. "Why does everyone keep looking at me like that?"

"Flowers?!" Ratchet exclaimed incredulously.

"Yes. I have to pick a dozen roses and give them to her. And I need to find out where to get a carnation for the binding ceremony. It has to be red."

"You're planning the wedding _already?_ Nevermind. I don't want to know. Tell me more about why you hate this examination."

"Because it's a waste of time! ...And why do _you_ suddenly care?" Starscream demanded, eying Ratchet suspiciously. The medic grinned shrewdly.

"I was just testing your reaction to an annoying stimulus."

"Oh, thank you for your consideration," Starscream purred.

"Alright, tell me about something funny," Ratchet ordered, leaning forward and giving him his full attention.

"Why?" Starscream asked puzzledly. "What's this supposed to test? My sense of humor?"

"Yep. Go on." Ratchet smiled encouragingly, and Starscream probed his databanks, trying to think of something funny.

"Well, there was the time that I stepped on Spike..."

"A different one," Ratchet groaned.

"Okay, hm..." Starscream frowned as he thought. "Why did the chicken—"

"No," Ratchet said flatly.

"Hmmm... Oh, I have it!" Starscream exclaimed. "The FAA regulation manual. It's the most hysterical book I've ever read!"

"Isn't that the human regulation book for airplanes?" Ratchet asked. "I thought you thought regulation manuals were duller than dust."

"Not this one, it's great," Starscream declared. "It's so ridiculously strict—they even have regulations on the types of _turns_ you can make. I've broken almost every rule in it. I have hopes of breaking them all someday."

"Is that even possible?" Ratchet asked dubiously. Starscream just smirked and nodded.

"Even Skyfire's broken most of them. You should see the section on cargo jets—if an FAA inspector ever saw Skyfire's hold, he'd be grounded for life!"

"How about Powerglide?" Ratchet asked, smiling. "Does he break a lot the rules?"

"Sadly, I couldn't find a single regulation about excessive boasting while flying. I'm surprised they missed that one," Starscream answered dryly. Ratchet chuckled.

"Alright, that's good. Let's move on to something else. Tell me about a mistake you made recently." Starscream frowned. A recent mistake... "_Once I defeat Skywarp, then I demand that you, Megatron, meet me in battle afterwards at the place and time of my choosing..."_ He quickly dismissed the thought. He would win the battle with Megatron just like he would win Ms. Buckrinia's heart.

"Remember, I said this was confidential," Ratchet said reassuringly, eyeing the furious lightning storm that was dancing on the monitor.

"I shouldn't have come back here with Skyfire," Starscream said, glaring at Ratchet. "That was my mistake. I could be out picking flowers right now."

"How sad," Ratchet observed, not looking sorry in the least. "Alright, tell me—"

"How many questions are left?" Starscream interrupted.

"Oh, enough," Ratchet answered. Starscream peered at him through narrowed optics.

"How many?" he asked sharply.

"Two hundred and fifty-eight."

"What?!" Starscream blurted, reaching for one of the cables connected to his headpiece to yank it out. "I'm not going to spend the rest of the day answering questions!" Ratchet batted his hand away from the cable.

"Yes you are. And don't you dare touch those!"

"I don't have time for this! There are important things to do!" He began to slide away down the counter.

"And your health is more important than all of them," Ratchet snapped. "Now you will sit and you will stay. Or else. Capiche?"

"Or else what?" Starscream demanded, lifting his chin.

"Or else it's the brig, that's what. Don't make me use force—-"

"You can't do that to me, I'm your superior! And I'm leaving right now! Don't try to stop me!" Starscream jumped off the table and yanked a fistful of cables from his head.

"Careful—" Ratchet exclaimed, cringing.

Starscream dropped the cables and backed warily towards the door. He expected at any moment to have to fend off an attack with a blunt medical instrument of the anesthesia-inducing variety. But to his surprise, Ratchet just stood there, his arms folded and a severe look on his face. The look almost made Starscream return meekly to the table, but he wasn't about to sit around for three hours of questioning. He had arrangements to make, things to do.

"I'm going and that's final!" Starscream repeated loudly, then turned and fled out the door. He smacked right into Skyfire's chest.

"Sorry," Skyfire said, backing up a step.

"Excuse me," Starscream said quickly, moving to go around. Skyfire shifted into his way.

"Starscream, I think you should finish your examination," Skyfire said. "I know you hate these things, but it's better to be safe than sorry, don't you think?"

"Traitor!" Starscream cried. "Ratchet hired you!"

"Yes, but I still think you ought to finish your exam. And Optimus Prime did order you to take one."

"He never said when," Starscream pointed out. "I'll take it later. When I have more time." He made to go around on Skyfire's other side, but again the cargo jet sidestepped into his way. "Skyfire!" Starscream said, looking up at his friend in exasperation.

"Come on, let's let Ratchet finish you up. I'll sit through it with you," Skyfire coaxed, shooing him back towards the medbay. Starscream's only response was to dart for the opening on Skyfire's other side. As Skyfire moved to close the gap, Starscream nimbly reversed his trajectory and slipped through the hole that Skyfire's movement had opened up on his other side. Skyfire tried to grab him, but he ducked under his friend's hands and raced down the hallway. "Wait! Come back!" Skyfire cried after him, but Starscream wasn't about to stop. He rounded the corner, a victorious grin already blossoming on his face. A second later a wall of red and yellow brought him to a dead stop.

"Hey, Screamer," Sideswipe and Sunstreaker said in unison, smiling. "Ratchet hired us too." They grabbed him.

"Let me go!" Starscream screeched, struggling as they pinned him between them. "I'm your commanding officer! Let go of me! This is mutiny!"

"Intervention!" Sideswipe bellowed as Starscream fought to break free. "I've always wanted to say that."

"Release me!" Starscream screamed. "I demand that you release me _now!_" He thrashed and kicked, but they held firm. Inch by inch they forced him back down the hallway towards the medbay. Skyfire stood to one side to let them pass.

"Skyfire, help!" Starscream cried, writhing about and trying to knock at Sunstreaker's legs out from under him. Skyfire looked on with an embarrassed expression but did nothing.

"Sorry," he said simply as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe dragged him past.

"Traitors! All of you!" Starscream howled. They brought him before Ratchet, who had not moved from his previous position.

"What do you want us to do with him?" Sunstreaker asked breathlessly.

"Take him away," Ratchet responded, nodding in the direction of the brig. "When you're feeling more cooperative, Starscream, we can finish your examination." Starscream's angry cries resounded through every room in the ship as they dragged him off.

* * *

Having been informed of Starscream's refusal to cooperate, Optimus made his way down to the detention center, hoping to reason with his friend. He found the Seeker pacing behind the glowing energy bars of a cell. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were seated on the floor nearby playing Letters and Numbers with triangular plastic cards.

"I can't stand it any longer!" Starscream cried loudly as soon as he spied Optimus. In a tremulous whine he added, "The walls are closing in! Please, Optimus, let me out! Pleeeeaaaase!" He dropped to his knees, shuddering miserably and clawing at the bars. The spectacle would have been quite pathetic if Starscream had been a better actor.

"Nice try, Starscream," Optimus said evenly. "You've only been in there for twenty minutes. Are you ready to cooperate with Ratchet now?" Starscream's misery instantly disappeared.

"Of course! I would be happy to finish the examination," Starscream said, smiling. Instantly Optimus was suspicious.

"Good," he replied, watching for Starscream's reaction to his next words. "I'll have Ratchet bring the equipment down then."

"What?" Starscream demanded, looking unpleasantly surprised. "Aren't you going to release me?"

"Of course—as soon as the examination is over," Optimus replied.

"But— But—" Starscream sputtered. "I have things to do!" As an afterthought he added, "And the walls are closing in!" He began to clutch at the bars again, making a whimpering noise.

"Oh, please!" Sideswipe said disgustedly. "Cut it out, you're not fooling anyone with those alligator tears!"

"C-can't—stand it—any longer!" Starscream quavered from his position on the floor. "Unbearable—! Walls closing in! P-please, Optimus! Oh _please,_ let me out...!" His voice trailed off into a pitiful groan. Optimus was unimpressed.

"I've seen better acting from first year drama students!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, shaking his head and playing a card.

"Do you hear violins, Sunny?" Sideswipe asked, cupping a hand to his audio sensor as if to listen. Optimus looked apologetically at the pitifully twitching figure by the bars of the cell. He didn't believe for a moment that Starscream was actually suffering from claustrophobia, but he couldn't help but feel a bit sorry anyway.

"I'm sorry old friend, but you're going to have to stay there until Ratchet finishes checking you out. This is for your own good. I'm sure Ratchet will work as fast as he can."

"C-can't stand it—too tight," Starscream crooned, drawing his knees up to his chest and hugging them. "Trapped!"

"Watch him closely," Optimus warned the twins. "He'll probably try to escape."

As Optimus left the detention center, Starscream's pitifully melodramatic sobs followed him down the hallway. The Autobot leader shook his head. Well, the Air Commander would undoubtedly come around when he realized his claustrophobia act was getting him nowhere. He just hoped that Starscream would come to his senses soon.

As soon as Optimus disappeared Starscream got up and moved to stand next to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

"I—I feel better suddenly," he said, trying to act as if he was surprised by the fact.

"Reeeeally," Sideswipe said, not looking up from his cards.

"Sunstreaker, where's the best place to buy paint and polish supplies and that sort of stuff?" Starscream asked, waving his hand vaguely in the air.

"The Limo," Sunstreaker answered without hesitation. Taking it for the name of a store, Starscream asked,

"And where's that at?"

Sunstreaker perused his hand for a moment, then laid down a card.

"Detroit," he answered at last. "Your move, 'Sides."

Starscream stared at him, not knowing whether to be appalled or impressed.

"You go halfway across the continent to buy maintenance supplies?"

"Not always!" Sunstreaker protested.

"There's also a place in Florida he goes to," Sideswipe explained with a wicked grin. Sunstreaker glared at him and slapped down a U-22.

"Draw twenty-two," he ordered brusquely. Sideswipe groaned and looked through his cards.

"It must cost _a lot_ to go all the way to Florida to get the _good_ stuff," Starscream said thoughtfully, peering at Sunstreaker. "It's a shame that Optimus only buys cheap, secondhand maintenance supplies, isn't it?"

"A cryin' shame," Sunstreaker muttered. Starscream crouched down and adopted a confidential tone.

"Wouldn't it be nice if you could get all the high quality paint and polish you wanted? For free, right here at the base?"

"What are you getting at?" Sideswipe asked. Starscream adopted an offhand tone. "Oh, I don't know...I was just thinking that maybe it's time we switched to a better paint, polish, and wax supplier, that's all. Like the Limo." Sunstreaker stared at him, his countenance torn between hope and doubt. Starscream pointedly observed, "You see, I have a lot of time to think about these sorts of things, since I'm _locked up in a cell._" Sunstreaker's optics widened.

"Careful Sunny, he's trying to bribe you," Sideswipe warned, seeing the signs of weakness in his brother.

"Not that you would care about such _minor_ things as paint and polish, Sideswipe," Starscream said. "Although, it is nice to look good when you go on furlough." Now it was Sideswipe's turn to look surprised.

"But our next furlough isn't for another eight months," he pointed out slowly.

"It is?" Starscream said in a surprised tone. "I could have sworn it was next week. I must look over those schedules again, I think there must be a mistake in there somewhere." Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exchanged a glance. Starscream's optics brightened with barely suppressed glee. He had them now!

"We can't let him out, he's crazy!" Sideswipe pointed out at last.

"Do I sound crazy?" Starscream said quickly, holding out his hands and smiling pleasantly, his optics wide and his face the very portrait of amiable sanity. "I just want to be helpful, that's all."

Sunstreaker looked from his brother to Starscream and then back to his brother, torn between the desire to do the right thing and the desire to have as much high end paint as he wanted.

"We'd get blamed if you escaped anyway," the yellow Lamborghini muttered at last. "Play already, Sideswipe."

"Who said anything about escape?" Starscream protested. "All I want is a little medical attention. I have this terrible buzzing in my head. If I did have a problem in my neurocircuitry—not that I do—I might be concerned that it was getting worse." He rubbed his head and groaned slightly. He had their full attention now.

"Wow, he sure sounds bad," Sunstreaker observed pointedly. He glanced over at Sideswipe to see his reaction. "Think maybe we should take him to Ratchet for a checkout?" As Sideswipe looked at his brother dubiously, Starscream groaned more loudly.

"I feel so very weak..." He slumped over onto his back. "Oh, the pain."

"Well, I guess it can't hurt to take him to the medbay since he needs to go there anyway," Sideswipe said.

"Yeah, I guess not," Sunstreaker said.

"You guess not what?" came a curious voice from the hallway, the words accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps. Starscream recognized the voice and gave a groan that was perceptibly more realistic than the previous ones. There went his chance of escaping.

"Oh, er—hi Skyfire. Just playing cards," Sideswipe said, anxiously rearranging his hand. "What brings you down to the lower dungeons?"

"Visiting a friend," Skyfire answered, striding up to the bars and looking down at him. Starscream stared back up with a disgruntled expression. "Why are you on the floor?" Skyfire asked after a moment.

"It's comfortable," Starscream snapped, standing up. "What do you want?"

"Just to cheer you up," Skyfire said. "And to urge you to finish your exam. You would be half done by now if you had just stayed in the medbay."

"Did Ratchet pay you to say that too?" Starscream asked icily, hoping to drive his all-too-helpful friend away. Skyfire said nothing, merely looking at him with an expression of mild disappointment that was far more eloquent than any angry rebuke. Starscream looked away from him and stared sulkily at the wall, feeling irritated and vaguely guilty at the same time.

"I brought you something," Skyfire said after a moment. "It's a picture of Ms. Buckrinia." Starscream's head whipped around. He looked at Skyfire with the expression of a child being handed the biggest present under the Christmas tree.

"Give it to me!" he exclaimed. He thrust an arm as far out through the bars as he could reach.

"Okay, hold on," Skyfire said, smiling as he pulled a sheet of plastine out subspace. Starscream snatched it from his fingers and drew it back in through the bars. It was her, it was her! Starscream ate the picture up with his optics. Her face was wrinkled like tinfoil, her lips were like soft, sagging drops of half molten steel, her eyes were as bright as gleaming ball bearings, her hair was like stripped wires. Unable to control himself, Starscream drew the picture to his lips and covered it with passionate kisses.

"My beautiful one! Oh, I love you, I adore you!" he murmured between kisses. "Dear, sweet Buckrinia!"

"Please tell me you're not serious!" Sideswipe burst out, interrupting his passionate reverie. Pressing one last kiss onto the forehead of his beloved, Starscream looked up and sent a stinging glare at his jailer.

"I would give up my wings to bring a smile to her face!" he declared ardently. "For two smiles, my life!"

"Do you really mean that?" Skyfire asked somberly, looking him over with a worried gaze. Starscream considered for a moment.

"No," he finally admitted. Skyfire looked relieved. Smiling triumphantly, Starscream finished, "I would give up my life for _one_ smile!"

He turned back to admire Ms. Buckrinia's picture, and gently caressed her cheek with his fingertips. How beautiful she was! How smart, how kind, how clever! Starscream gave an anguished moan as his soul tore itself out of his chest for longing. Oh, to feel the warmth of her dainty hands in his, to touch her lips—

"Starscream, I really think you should take that exam now," Skyfire said seriously. "You're acting...strange."

"If I'm malfunctioning, then may I never be fixed," Starscream declared, not looking up from his contemplation of the beautific portrait. Skyfire was silent for a long moment, a sign Starscream took to mean that his friend was composing an argument in his mind. Mentally preparing himself to resist the logic he knew would follow, Starscream fixed his optics on Ms. Buckrinia's eyes and stiffened his resolve.

"Do you really think Ms. Buckrinia will want someone who she thinks only loves her because of a malfunction?" the cargo jet finally asked. "Don't you think that's rather, well, _insulting_ to her?"

Starscream, looked up, his optics wide. A thousand insecticons took flight and buzzed violently around inside him.

"In-insulting? No, I didn't mean that at all, no, no!" he bubbled out, shaking his head.

"Oh, of course not!" Skyfire said emphatically. Shrugging, he added, "I only hope she understands that."

"She will!" Starscream cried. "She has to!"

"Well, you're probably right," Skyfire agreed, his voice assuming a careless tone. "I suppose I'm probably blowing things a bit out of proportion. I'm sure Ms. Buckrinia is an excellent judge of character, and she won't think any less of you when Ratchet tells her you have a fault in your neurocircuitry. Say, are you going to play, Sideswipe?"

"Oh, right," Sideswipe said, wiping the lopsided grin off his face and assuming an impassive visage. He laid down a card.

"Do you really think that she might not want—me—" The words strangled in Starscream's vocalizer. His hands tightened on the sheet of plastine until it bent under his fingers.

"Oh, you never can tell Starscream," Sunstreaker said ominously. "Why, ol' Ms. Buckrinia might be one of those fickle femmes. One speck of mud on your fender and—BAM!—she finds another guy."

"How awful," Skyfire murmured. "To think a femme might reject you for a single drop of mud!"

Sideswipe nodded solemnly. "Yeah, once I went out with a femme who got insulted because I cut in front of her on a turnoff on the way to the Cafe Galactica. She never spoke to me again."

"Man, that's low," agreed Sunstreaker.

"But what can you expect, when a femme has hundreds of mechs competing for her?" Skyfire sighed sorrowfully. "Ah, how easily love dies!"

During this exchange Starscream had paced agitatedly in front of the bars, staring wildly from Ms. Buckrinia's picture to his three companions. Upon hearing Skyfire's final lamentation, his optics widened in pure horror.

"I want to take the exam!" he shrieked. "Now!"

"Oh, I don't think that's really necessary," Sideswipe said disinterestedly. "You seem sane enough to me. I'm sure Optimus will let you out soon. Anyway, I want to finish the game. Your move, Sunny."

"Let me out!" Starscream wailed. "I want to take the exam! Please, you have to let me out! Please, please!"

"I think we should let him take the exam," Skyfire said pointedly, nudging Sideswipe with his toe. "Why don't you go get Ratchet—now?"

"Alright, alright, sheesh," Sideswipe said, slowly folding up his hand and getting to his feet and putting his cards facedown on the floor. Grumbling, he moseyed out the door.

"I think you've made a wise choice, Starscream," Skyfire said. "I'm sure Ms. Buckrinia would be proud."

"I hope so!" Starscream wailed. "She has to be!"

"She will," Skyfire soothed. "I'm sure of it."

Behind them, Sunstreaker peeled up his brother's cards, took a quick peak underneath, and smirked to himself.

* * *

Skyfire was comfortable in Optimus Prime's office. This was partially due to the fact that the spacious room was Optimus Prime-sized, which was the next best thing to Skyfire-sized. Skyfire even had twenty feet of headroom to spare, and that alone would have been sufficient to make him quite content there. But more to the point, Optimus simply made his subordinates at home. Though Skyfire had been summoned to Optimus' office for a meeting with him and Ratchet about Starscream's condition, he felt like he was visiting a friend instead of reporting to a superior. For that reason, he had taken the liberty of perching himself upon the corner of Optimus' sturdy desk while he waited for the others to arrive.

As he waited, his optics drifted slowly over the room, taking in the humble decor. Like most Cybertronian rooms, it was rather spartan, and as if to underscore the fact that Optimus Prime refused to play the role of Grand Exalted Leader, his office was more sparcely decorated than most. Beside his desk were a set of simple chairs; the sole ornamentation consisted of two ornamental holos.

The first and most eye-catching picture was a relief of Elita-1 standing boldly on a ledge overlooking Iacon and the surrounding city. Instead of a photoperfect hologram, it was a realistic holopainting, the difference being that the lightpainter had sought to capture a scene of idealized beauty rather than a "mere" picture. Skyfire knew that Elita-1 found her dramatic portrayal somewhat embarrassing, but notwithstanding her objections the picture stayed, for Optimus loved it.

The second holo was a portrait of Optimus' command staff, new and old. Some processing had evidently been applied to the picture, for several of the people shown standing next to each other had not been alive contemporaneously. Skyfire's optics easily picked out Starscream in the front row, standing with a fakey smile pasted on his face. Skyfire smiled slightly at the sight—Starscream could not produce a genuine-looking contrived smile to save his life. On more than one occasion, a despairing holographer had simply given up on getting a realistic smile out of him and simply altered the holo after the fact to make him look sincerely happy.

As Skyfire gazed upon the picture, Starscream's earlier words came back to him in a flash: _I would give up my life for one smile!_ Skyfire winced. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that a malfunction was the explanation for his friend's sudden monomaniacal attachment to Ms. Buckrinia. After hearing Starscream's sincere profession of love, Skyfire had gone ahead with his plan and manipulated his friend into taking the examination, an act that he would have balked at under other circumstances. He salved his conscience by telling himself that Starscream would thank him for it later.

Just as Skyfire finished looking over the group portrait, the doors swished open and Optimus stepped in with Ratchet one step behind.

"So, what did you find out?" Skyfire asked once everyone was seated. Ratchet sighed and looked up at the ceiling as if imploring strength from above. When he looked back down, his face was almost embarrassed.

"Well, I never thought I'd be sorry to say this, but...nothing."

"What?" exclaimed Skyfire and Optimus together.

"You heard me," Ratchet groaned. "Oh, I thought I'd found something at first, but nothing turned up on the circoscanner. He's normal as far as I can tell."

"As far as you can tell?" Optimus probed hopefully, leaning forward. Ratchet nodded shortly, and carefully emphasized,

"As far as I can tell with the equipment we have on base."

"So you think there's something you might be missing?" Optimus asked. Ratchet's gaze drifted over to the group portrait on the wall.

"There's a slight chance," he admitted. "Very slight, but it's possible. We could send the scan results to Cybertron for processing in the VEX computer. But you know how long _that_ takes."

"I think we should do it," Skyfire ventured. "This is not normal behavior." He left the words "even for Starscream" unsaid.

"Agreed," Ratchet muttered, folding his arms and slouching back in his chair. Optimus nodded.

"Let's get that processing done immediately. I know it's a small chance, but..."

"Right," Ratchet nodded. "I'll send them the report right away."

"What about Starscream?" Skyfire asked, holding up a hand in question. "We can't just leave him locked in the brig while we wait for the results to get back."

"Very true," Optimus agreed, his optics dimming thoughtfully. After a moment they brightened again. "Skyfire, would you be willing to be a...what is that human word? Oh yes—would you be willing to be a parole officer?"

"A what?" Skyfire inquired.

"Rather like a minder for prisoners who are done with most of their sentence, I believe," Optimus said. "But don't quote me on that. What I mean is that I'd like you to follow Starscream around and make sure he doesn't get himself into trouble."

"I think I can do that," Skyfire agreed readily.

"Why not? He's already been doing it for millions of years," Ratchet quipped. Skyfire tried to restrain a smile and was only partially successful.

"I'll go let him out," he said. "He's probably paced a rut in the floor by now."

"Believe it!" Ratchet exclaimed. "Why, I practically had to—"

As Ratchet began his familiar rant about Starscream's medical misdemeanors, Skyfire made his escape.

He made his way down to the brig. Entering, he was surprised to find Starscream seated calmly upon the recharge bunk. Catching sight of him, the Seeker gave a weary sigh.

"You were right."

"...About what?" Skyfire inquired, stepping up to the bars.

"Oh, everything," Starscream said, sighing again. "Love does die easily, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not in love with Ms. Buckrinia anymore." A tiny, almost imperceptible shudder ran through the Seeker's body, as if he were cringing at his own words. He pursed his lips tightly.

"Reaaally," Skyfire said, smiling. "Does this mean that when I let you out you're not going to go pick flowers?"

"You're letting me out?" Starscream cried, leaping to his feet. Skyfire nodded and entered the release code to the cell door.

"On parole," he amended. "Ratchet's sending your test results to Cybertron, but in the meantime you have to stick close to me."

"Great!" Starscream exclaimed as the bars flickered out of existence. He stepped out of the cell and threw out his arms exultantly. "Freedom at last!" Skyfire couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

"Well, what now?" he asked.

"Now we go pick some flowers."

* * *

As it turned out, they didn't have to go far—the roses were only as far away as a tiny ad in the yellow pages for "Rosie's Roses: Bouquets, Weddings, and Deliveries." While Starscream hunted down Ms. Buckrinia's address in the white pages, Skyfire used Teletraan 1 to place a call to the floral shop. The phone rang a few times, then a pleasant feminine voice spoke,

"Hello, Rosie speaking."

"Hello," Skyfire replied. "I'd like to place an order for a bouquet of a dozen roses."

"Alright, let me find a pen real quickly..." There was a pause. "Okay, and what color did you want?" Skyfire nudged Starscream.

"Red," the Seeker said quickly.

"Okay," Rosie said. "And where did you want them delivered?" Starscream put his optics close to the phonebook, trying to read Ms. Buckrinia's tiny printed address, then carefully enunciated it, repeating it just in case the woman hadn't gotten it the first time.

"And what would you like on the card?"

"There's a card?"

"Yep," Rosie said pleasantly. "Unless you want to make the delivery anonymous."

"Oh no," Starscream said hurriedly. "Uh... Write on it, 'From Starscream, with love.' No, wait—make that 'From Starscream, with love and admiration.' Or maybe 'with sincerest admiration and love' would be better..."

"What do you want sir?"

"How does 'From Starscream, with greatest love and admiration' sound?" Starscream asked with a sigh. "I didn't know there would be a card."

"Sounds perfect. I'm sure she'll love it."

"I hope so," he said. "So how much do I owe you?"

The flowers were paid for by credit card, and Skyfire closed the channel. Starscream turned and looked at him quizzically.

"What did she mean by 'hope your cold gets better'?"

Skyfire shrugged in response.

"I don't see how she even knew you were cold over the phone. It must be a human thing. And that means, ask Spike."

"That's right—I need to finish my talk with him!" Starscream exclaimed. He ran his fingers thoughtfully over his chin and added, "Did you know that there's a ritual combat you have to undergo before you can betroth yourself a human femme? "

"Really?" Skyfire asked. "I didn't know that."

"Yep," Starscream nodded. "It's called the engagement. It takes place in a special combat arena called the engagement ring. At the wedding, if anyone objects to the union, you go out to the engagement ring and fight it out with them. Then if you win, you get married, which is the same thing as a binding ceremony."

"Strange—I wouldn't have thought that Americans had a custom like that," Skyfire said thoughtfully. "They just don't seem like the kind of culture that would have combat as a binding ritual."

"That's what I thought too," Starscream agreed. "Maybe it's taboo to talk about it."

"Could be," Skyfire said. "But you discussed it with Spike?"

"Yes...and actually, now that I think about it, he did seem nervous about answering my questions." Starscream frowned, remembering. Skyfire declined to mention that Starscream made Spike nervous all the time. "Well, now we need to find a diamond," Starscream said abruptly.

"What for?" Skyfire inquired.

"To put in the matter duplicator, of course," Starscream answered simply. "How else are we going to get enough diamonds to pave an engagement ring?"

* * *

The summer sun warmed the coastal shelf and made the glistening purple tower jutting out of the ocean steam with evaporating saltwater. Heedless of the heat, a party of off-duty Decepticons was perched on the summit of the castle like so many gargoyles, their optics raised towards the sky. Occasionally a cheer or a ripple of laughter ran through the group, and credit chits exchanged hands.

Above them a minute black speck was visible, wheeling and diving like a cormorant. From time to time a flicker of light could be discerned next to it as the sun glinted off a polished blue-grey form, and occasionally a stream of purple bolts streaked forth from one of the two gnat-like objects. Had the spectators been able to hear the conversation passing between the two combatants, they would have found that they themselves were the topic of discussion.

"What do you think the stakes are now?" Skywarp, jerking aside just in time to avoid a spray of low-power laser bolts that flashed by his wing. He curled around and dove for the ocean.

"Ramjet just put down fifteen on me," Thundercracker saidSkywarp pulled up just in time to avoid another stream of lasers.

"You're getting good," Skywarp observed. Abruptly a purple laser scorched down the side of his nose. "Ow!" he blurted, teleporting automatically and reappearing a mile away. He immediately had to dodge lasers as Thundercracker wheeled to face him and began shooting again.

"Seven to six, and the teleportation penalty makes it eight to six," Thundercracker said cheerfully.

"There shouldn't be a penalty," Skywarp pouted. "I'm allowed to use my power in the real match."

"One null ray hit is all it takes to change that," Thundercracker replied, firing. Skywarp zigzagged; behind him, he could see Thundercracker rapidly closing the distance between them. He pulled around as hard as he could, trying to get out of the other's crosshairs.

"If I get hit by the null ray I'll crash anyway," Skywarp pointed out.

"No, you might just be crippled."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"No problem. What are friends for?" Thundercracker accompanied the words with a barrage of lasers that warmed his belly. Skywarp snapped his flaps hard into a left hand turn and braked on his antigravs, pivoting around like a ballet dancer. He felt cables and pistons straining painfully at the stress of the maneuver, but he was rewarded by a glimpse of his wingmate's tailfins disappearing to his side. He hurled himself after Thundercracker and they chased each other like two goldfish circling madly in a bowl, neither able to quite bring the other into his sights. The distant spectators cheered and shouted encouragement.

Suddenly there was a familiar cough and a curtain of flame burst out in front of Skywarp's nose. Fire roared into his intakes, scorching its way down his turbines in a boiling river. Without hesitation he broke off and plunged into the ocean, extinguishing his burning metal in the cool water.

"Cheater," he shouted, rising back up to the surface in an explosion of spray.

"Oh, is that what they call winning now?" Thundercracker laughed, opening fire on him and making the ocean dance and hiss. A clean miss.

"Nice shooting!" Skywarp taunted. Wheeling around and bringing Thundercracker into his sights, he took careful aim and sent a single well placed shot into his wingmate's fuselage.

"Scrap metal!" Thundercracker cursed, breaking away and darting for the cover of the elevator tower. Skywarp smiled victoriously and gunned his afterburners.

"Make that nine to seven, TC!"

Now Thundercracker's tail fins were in_ his_ crosshairs! As the other jet juked back and forth in evasive patterns, Skywarp fired a long burst of laser bolts that seemed to hit everywhere but where Thundercracker was flying. Finally a bolt clipped Thundercracker's wingtip, and then another struck him in the thrusters.

"Nine to nine!" Skywarp sang out gleefully.

"Luck!" Thundercracker grumbled.

"Oh, is that what they call winning now?" Skywarp teased. They shot over the elevator tower low enough to make everyone scream and duck.

"You know what?" Thundercracker said amusedly. "I don't think this is challenging enough for you."

"Well, I'll admit you're not the toughest opponent I've ever faced," Skywarp said.

"Right. So how about if we make it three to one?"

"No way!" Skywarp yelped.

"Ramjet, Thrust! Some help training Skywarp for his match please!" Thundercracker called out.

"I don't think so!" Skywarp cried. But already two dots had separated themselves from the blocky shape of the elevator tower and were rushing eagerly towards him.

"Trust me, it'll be good for you," Thundercracker said with an audible smirk.

"Oh, I'll get you for this TC," Skywarp warned.

"Go right ahead," Thundercracker laughed. "If you can!"

Skywarp snorted but did not reply; the time for joking and playing was over—now it was time to fight. Training his radar backwards to keep watch on the two specks to the rear, he focused in on Thundercracker and prepared another salvo. He had to be in top form for the upcoming match with Starscream, even if it meant spending every day for the next week practicing. His past battles with Starscream had taught him that even with his teleportation power, he would need every scrap of luck, every dirty trick, and every second of practice to win. For there was no doubt that his rival was training just as hard as he was—or maybe even harder!

* * *

"What rhymes with 'geodes'?" Starscream asked in frustration, staring at the computer screen. While the matter duplicator spewed out diamonds, he had retired to his quarters to work on a poem for Ms. Buckrinia. His rock collection and his tactical holomap of Cybertron were not as inspirational as he had hoped they would be.

"'Explodes'?" Skyfire offered, looking up from his volcano report. The other mech was sprawled uncomfortably across the too-short recharge slab.

"That doesn't make any sense," Starscream grumbled.

"How about 'reloads'?" Skyfire suggested helpfully.

"That's even worse." Starscream scowled at the computer monitor. _Your eyes are like sapphire geodes/Something something something reloads._ He drummed his fingers on the desk and thought some more. _Your eyes are like sapphire geodes/You make me feel like explodes. Your eyes are like sapphire geodes/Your gaze makes me explodes. Your eyes are like sapphire geodes/Like a bomb, my love for you explodes. _ He had never heard anything so stupid in all his life."I can't write poetry!" he howled, slamming his hand down on the desk.

"Maybe you should start a nonrhyming poem first," Skyfire said mildly.

"That's too easy," Starscream snapped. "She won't be impressed by that!"

"It just depends on how much effort you put into it."

"I've already put more effort into this poem than I put into Planetary Energon Conservation Plan." Grumbling, Starscream cleaned his screen nonetheless and began anew. _Your eyes are like sapphire geodes/Your gaze makes all my servos quiver._ Not bad... Starscream thought for a moment, then added two more lines: _My love for you is true and deep as the ocean/Excluding the section in Sector 27, where the Decepticon base is._ After a long moment of consideration, he added: _I love your smile, or at least I think I would if I had ever seen it/You are the most beautiful, gorgeous, spectacular femme ever!_

Starscream grinned; he was on fire now! _I can't live without you/My life was miserable before we met/And even after that it wasn't so great for awhile/I'm really sorry for all the nasty things I called you/And for kicking the fender off your car._

At that, Starscream frowned. He had forgotten about breaking Ms. Buckrinia's car. No wonder she had seemed so upset with him when she drove off.

"What an idiot I am," he groaned aloud.

"You know better than that," Skyfire chastened him gently. "Writing poetry is a skill like everything else. You just need to practice."

"No, no, my poem's going fine now. I just remembered that I broke Ms. Buckrinia's car."

"...Oh."

Starscream stood up and paced, thinking. He could go to her house and try to reattach the fender—if he could find it—but why stop there? Ms. Buckrinia's car was a junk heap! What she needed was a new car...a fast car...a sportscar. And he knew where to get one. A malicious grin flashed over his dark face.

"Come on Skyfire," he said, heading for the door. "It's time we paid a visit on Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."

Skyfire pressed Starscream for an explanation on their way down to the twins' quarters, but Starscream just snickered and told him to wait and see. The Seeker's smirk did not bode bode well for miscreants, Skyfire knew.

The last time Skyfire had heard that smirk had been when Prowl called Starscream in as a creative consultant to devise a cruel and unusual punishment for the two troublemakers. One week later Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had turned up on TV as the new McDonalds mascots. In three 20 second long commercials, they had smilingly advertised Happy Meals with Ronald McDonald, Berdie, and the Hamburglar. The commercials had aired every hour on the hour for two weeks, and even up to six months after they were over with the twins still cringed when someone sang out, "I'm lovin' it!" The worst part of it was, there was general consensus that the pair had deserved far worse what they had gotten. McDonalds' sales had skyrocketed.

Skyfire and Starscream reached the door of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's shared quarters, and Starscream paused to listen. From behind the door could be heard two familiar voices.

"—want it back."

"You said I could have it till next week."

"Yeah, but I need it now."

"C'mon! You promised—"

"Just give it here, okay?"

"But I'm still using it!"

Starscream stabbed the door buzzer, drowning out the argument.

"Who is it?" Sideswipe demanded. Doing a passable imitation of a witch trying to lure children into a candy house, Starscream answered,

"It's me, your pal Starscream. Can I come in? I want to talk with you."

Dead silence. Then a flurry of activity, the sound of cupboards banging shut, furious whispering, and the scrape of furniture moving.

"Sure, come on in," Sideswipe said a moment later. The door swept open. Sunstreaker was focused intently on reading a datapad, while his brother was busily engaged at the computer.

"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," Starscream said in a friendly voice, stepping inside. Skyfire followed, ducking halfway down under the doorway. The room was too small to accomodate him completely, so he resigned himself to remaining crouched in the doorframe.

"Oh, no! Heck, we were bored stiff before you dropped by!" Sideswipe exclaimed. "Got all this work to do. Man, paperwork bites."

"I couldn't agree more!" Starscream agreed fervently. "Fortunately I have a _really fun _assignment for you that doesn't require any." Skyfire watched with pity as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's countenances faltered.

"Gosh, that sounds great," Sunstreaker said. "But I really gotta get this report done. Don't put off till tomorrow what you can do today, that's what I always say, right Sides'?"

"Nah, you always got time to help out a friend," Sideswipe said, typing furiously on his own report.

"Do not!" Sunstreaker blurted.

"Do so!"

"Hey, fellas!" Starscream exclaimed. "I only need one of you. The best looking one." Sunstreaker stared balefully him, his mouth halfway open to voice a response that his brain instinctively knew would be suicide.

"What do you need help with, anyway?" the yellow Lamborghini finally demanded.

"Oh, it's real easy," Starscream said, smiling the same fakey smile that Skyfire had observed in the hologram. "You get to be Ms. Buckrinia's new car!"

"No!" howled Sideswipe and Sunstreaker.

"Never!" Sunstreaker added. "Not even if you paid me a million dollars!"

"What he said!" Sideswipe echoed. "Not in a million years. And you can't order us to do something that dumb. Optimus won't let you."

"You can't be serious, Starscream," Skyfire said, looking over at his friend. The Seeker looked perfectly serious. Starscream held up his hands, asking for silence. Then, in a voice that veritably dripped honey laced with cyanide, he continued,

"I'm not ordering you as a commander. I'm asking you as a friend."

"Right. And as your friend, I'm saying no," Sunstreaker snapped.

"Ditto!" Sideswipe agreed, jerking his head up and down in a furious nod.

"I'm asking as the friend who you were going to be _so_ kind and_ so_ helpful to in the brig." Starscream said. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker stared at him, their expressions slowly mutating into twin sickly looks. "I'm asking as the friend who is so grateful for the kind favor that you were going to do for him that he's considering telling Prowl and Ratchet about it, so that they can show their gratitude to you for the next two weeks."

That was a threat if Skyfire had ever heard one. He looked from Starscream's now-gleeful visage to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's suffering faces, unsure of whether or not to intercede on their behalf.

"What's going on?" he finally asked.

"We're settling a debt," Starscream replied cryptically. "Don't worry, they deserve it." Skyfire wondered just what sort of favor the twins had been about to do for Starscream in the brig. A few ideas came to mind, none of them particularly reassuring.

"Okay, I've decided," Sideswipe groaned, dropping his face into his hands. "Sunstreaker will help you."

"No, Sideswipe will!" Sunstreaker cried.

"Sunstreaker!"

"Sideswipe!"

"Sunstreaker!"

"Sideswipe!"

"You can both help!" Starscream bellowed, cutting through the argument. "You can be her car in shifts!"

"C'mon, can't you find a car somewhere else?" Sunstreaker groaned.

"If I spend a hundred thousand on a sportscar, Optimus will revoke my access to our credit account until that stupid scan is done," Starscream answered flatly. "So that leaves you two." The twins moaned in unison. Starscream continued, "Now, clearly we don't Ms. Buckrinia to know that you're both her car, so you'll have to choose a color and share it. Orange, perhaps?"

A retching noise proceeded from Sunstreaker's vocalizer.

"Well, I'll let you decide. Let me know when you're ready to leave; I want to leave a note for her on your dash."

"Now a love note too?!" Sideswipe howled, slapping a hand over his optics. "What's next, gushy pink hearts on our hoods?"

"That's a great idea!" Starscream exclaimed. "Yes, three or four big ones! And some on your doors too!"

"What?! No way!" Sunstreaker shrieked. "I'd rather die!"

"I'd rather shoot myself," Sideswipe agreed vehemently.

"Starscream, maybe you start off with smaller tokens of affection," Skyfire said tactfully, deciding to intervene to save what was left of the twins' dignity. Whatever they'd done, it couldn't possibly merit_ this _much humiliation. Maybe. "Ms. Buckrinia might be turned off if you try too much too fast."

"Like only two or three smaller hearts?" Starscream asked, turning to look at him.

"Like maybe just returning her fender with an apology," Skyfire suggested. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe gave him a look of ineffable gratitude.

"But she needs a new car!" Starscream protested. "The other one is dangerous! What if the brakes fail and she goes plunging off a cliff?"

Sunstreaker covered up his mouth and Sideswipe suffered an inexplicable burst of vocalizer static. Skyfire could see that it was killing them not to respond to the rhetorical question. Thank goodness Starscream didn't seem to be reading a deeper meaning into their sudden malfunctions...

"Sorry, had a bit of a glitch there," Sideswipe got out at last.

"Well, let's think for a moment," Skyfire said quickly, trying to divert Starscream's suddenly suspicious gaze. "What we need is a source of money. Is there anything we have that we could sell?"

"Now that's a thought," Starscream said. "How much _do_ Lamborghinis go for these days?"

"Hey!" Sunstreaker protested.

"Woah Screamer, let's not get hasty," Sideswipe said. "I know where you can get money—enough to buy any car you want. Heck, you could buy anything."

"How's that?" Starscream asked. "Rob a bank?"

Sideswipe leaned back in his chair and grinned at Starscream.

"Nah, easier than that. Much easier. But before I say anything you gotta promise that you'll forget about the—ahem—debt."

"Fine. I forget," Starscream said impatiently. "Now what's this super special idea of yours?

Sideswipe's smile grew brilliant.

"First, you need a hundred dollar bill..."

* * *

"So what are you guys gonna spend this on?" Sparkplug asked, looking up at them dubiously as he smoothed out the wrinkles in the fifty dollar bill that he had just fished out of his wallet.

"We're going to use it to make more money," Starscream explained, his blue optics shining with anticipation and perhaps even with a trace of avarice. Skyfire still wasn't quite sold on Sideswipe's idea, but he couldn't exactly say exactly why. It just seemed too easy somehow.

"Oh, investing, eh?" Sparkplug asked, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "When do I get paid back?"

"This afternoon, at the latest," Skyfire reassured him.

"Well, that's not a bad deal," Sparkplug acknowledged. "What are you two investing in?"

Starscream looked puzzled. "Well, I wouldn't exactly call it investing...I want to buy a new car for Ms. Buckrinia."

"For fifty dollars?"

"You said you didn't have any hundreds," Starscream pointed out.

"But—oh, nevermind. Here, just take it."

Shaking his head in an I'll-never-understand-Autobots way, Sparkplug held up the fifty. Starscream reached down and ejected a tweezers out of his index finger. He plucked the bill from Sparkplug's fingers.

"Thanks, we'll pay you back soon," Skyfire offered.

"No hurry," Sparkplug said, waving it off with a smile. "All I ask is that you don't blow it on the stock market."

Skyfire chuckled in response. "Don't worry, it's a very low risk investment. In fact, the only possible danger is that a malfunction—"

"Malfunction shmalfunction! It'll work perfectly!" Starscream broke in. "Let's go, Skyfire. I want to get this done so that we can buy a car before the United States shuts down for the night."

Shrugging apologetically at Sparkplug's baffled expression, Skyfire allowed Starscream to lead him down the hallway towards the matter duplicator.

"Did you have to mention a malfunction?" Starscream complained as soon as they were out of earshot.

"You're right," Skyfire said. "One shouldn't talk about the potential risks in front of investors."

"Anyway, it's safe," Starscream insisted. "If the duplicator was going to break down, it would have happened long ago."

"How many diamonds do we have now anyway?" Skyfire asked.

"Only three tons," Starscream said. "The tray doesn't hold enough to do much at a time." Skyfire nodded, and then they entered the laboratory where a servo drone was mindlessly unloading pile after pile of freshly minted diamonds into a subspace storage crate.

"Cease, drone," Starscream ordered it, and when it obediently stopped he stepped forward and scooped away the diamonds, replacing them with the fifty dollar bill again. "Continue."

Skyfire watched as the drone whirred to life and the matter duplicator's tray began to fill with fifty dollar bills. Once again that uneasy feeling that there was something unethical about the whole thing came over him.

"Do you get the feeling this is just a little too easy?" he finally asked Starscream.

"Yeah," the Seeker admitted. "It's strange that humans don't just print their own money at home instead of working for it, isn't it?"

"We can't be the first ones to have thought of this," Skyfire agreed. Starscream laughed suddenly.

"It's no wonder they have problems with inflation. They should base their currency on something harder to reproduce than paper!"

* * *

_Three hours later._

"Well, this should be enough," Starscream said, nudging the knee high pile of green fluff with his toe. The subspace crate had overflowed in their absence and was now buried in money. "How much do think we have?"

"At 5,000 bills an hour I'd say about $700,000," Skyfire said, collecting one of the bills and setting up a mental flag to repay Sparkplug. "That should be enough to buy anything that Ms. Buckrinia's heart desires."

"She'll love her new car!" Starscream exclaimed, optics aglow. "I'm going to make her the happiest femme alive!"

"Woman," Skyfire reminded him absently as he compared two of the bills, noting that they both had the exact same brown stain in the corner.

"...What?"

"You said femme."

"Oh, thanks. This habit is harder to break than I thought it would be."

"Well, what now?" Skyfire asked, standing up and subspacing Sparkplug's fifty.

"First, we'll go buy her car. Then we can go get stuff for the wedding. I'm thinking we'll have it next week."

At that, Skyfire couldn't quite suppress a grimace. He was afraid that Starscream was in for a rude awakening if he expected Ms. Buckrinia to marry him after only a week of courtship, no matter how intense that one-sided show of affection might be.

"Starscream, I still think you're rushing into this," Skyfire said, trying to fight back a sense of futility. "Humans might have short lifespans, but their courtships can still last for years. She barely knows you. And you barely know her. You should put off marriage until you've gotten better acquainted."

"What better way to get to know someone than to get married to them?" Starscream returned with a quirky smile. "We'll stay together long enough to realize we can't stand each other, then get a divorce."

"Be serious," Skyfire admonished. "This is a decision that will affect her for the rest of her life. She needs time to think this through."

"She's an old fe—woman, Skyfire. She can't afford to spend twenty years thinking this over."

"Yes, but she still needs time to get to know you. What are you going to do if you propose to her and she says no?" Starscream froze momentarily, the smile wiped from his face. Then quickly he rejoined,

"She won't say no. I'm sure of it."

"But how do you know that?" Skyfire pressed.

Before Starscream could respond, there was a clatter of many footsteps in the corridor. A moment later Optimus Prime appeared in the doorway, followed close behind by Cliffjumper, Bumblebee, and Ratchet. Their faces were grim, and Skyfire had a sudden ominous premonition that his question was about to be answered.

"We just received a message from Megatron," Optimus said, gazing intently at Starscream. "He wanted to inform me of the time and place for your battle challenge with Skywarp."

Skyfire turned to Starscream, optics wide. Starscream wore a thrilled grin.

"See? I told you she would marry me!" he cried. "After I beat Skywarp, she won't be able to resist me!"

"Starscream...!" Skyfire murmured, shaking his head in despairing.

"You've lost your mind Screamer!" Cliffjumper yelled from the back.

"I'm perfectly sane!" Starscream retorted.

"Cuckoo, ya mean!"

"All right, calm down," Optimus said, raising his voice just enough to silence both transformers. "Starscream, would you care to explain this?"

"It's simple," Starscream answered, still half glaring at Cliffjumper. "I'm going to defeat Skywarp so that I can prove that I'm the best boyfriend that Ms. Buckrinia could ever hope to find. Then she'll pick me for her husband instead of some low-grade human chump."

"Stark raving mad!" Cliffjumper muttered.

"If you say that one more time..." Starscream threatened.

"Cliffjumper, enough." Optimus said. "Starscream, until we get the results of your VEX scan back from Cybertron, I must refuse the challenge on your behalf."

"What?" Starscream screeched. "You can't do that! I have a legal right to challenge Skywarp to a 'one on one battle.' It says so in Article 97 of the Code of Cybertron!"

"Perhaps so, but in Article 98 it says that your commanding officer may negate your right if he believes your challenge to be in error, which I do," Optimus responded steadily. Starscream hissed in frustration.

"But it's not an error. People fight over femmes all the time! Why can't I?"

"Because it's silly! And immature!" Bumble answered frankly.

"Definitely something he'd do then," Cliffjumper muttered.

"One more peep and I'll rewire your mouth," Ratchet snapped, banging Cliffjumper on the head.

"It may be silly on Cybertron, but it's normal on Earth," Starscream argued. "The humans even have an engagement ring for suitors to fight each other in. I have to fight someone or I can't get married to Ms. Buckrinia."

At that, Optimus fell silent. Skyfire caught his gaze and nodded slightly, confirming Starscream's point about the engagement ring. He had to admit that it did make sense, in a twisted sort of way—Ms. Buckrinia probably did expect to be fought for by her prospective mates.

"I just want a worthy opponent," Starscream continued reasonably. "After all, I can't very well fight a human directly." Still Optimus said nothing. "All I ask is a chance to prove my worth to her. Is that too much? I have to fulfill my obligations as a prospective fiancé. And, I have to uphold my—uh, _our_—honor. If I back out now, everyone will think we chickened out, and then Ms. Buckrinia will never agree to marry me! ...And then, I'll be so miserable that I'll throw myself into a slag pit in a fit of grief!"

"You don't mean that, do you?" Skyfire asked, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to look him in the optics.

"Every word!" Starscream declared vehemently.

"He's not thinking straight. We should deactive him before he harms himself," Ratchet said tersely. Starscream jerked around to look at Optimus and Skyfire only half released him.

"Listen to me, Optimus," Starscream said, suddenly adopting a pleading voice. "By the time the scan comes back and says that nothing is wrong, it'll be too late. Ms. Buckrinia will think I'm afraid to fight for her and replace me like a flat tire. _Please, _Optimus—you have to let me fight Skywarp! I've never asked you for anything like this before. Don't throw away my happiness for nothing. Please! I'm begging you!"

Optimus gazed down at Starscream silently, his face unreadable behind his mask. Skyfire was surprised to find himself almost moved Starscream's impassioned (though slightly overacted) plea, even though he was certain that a fight with Skywarp would have absolutely no effect on Ms. Buckrinia's low opinion of Starscream. The other, smarter part of him argued that in Starscream's present state the Seeker was bound to come off badly in the combat, and if Starscream really_ was_ malfunctioning then he would blow a fuse when he came back to himself and realized that he had been allowed to participate in a losing battle. A whole minute seemed to drag by in pure silence, then at last Optimus said reflectively,

"They say love makes you do crazy things."

"I won't deny it," Starscream said. "I'm mad for Ms. Buckrinia."

"See, he admits it!" Ratchet cried.

"But if you want to prove yourself to Ms. Buckrinia, you'll have to prove yourself to me first," Optimus said. "You may accept the challenge—" Starscream interrupted with an exclamation of delight. "—on the condition that you can prove your mental and physical capabilities have not diminished."

"I'll prove anything you want!"

"Anything?" Optimus asked ominously.

"Anything!" Starscream affirmed.

* * *

As it turned out, "anything" took the form of six consecutive fights against the Aerialbots and Powerglide, then a chess match to the death with Prowl. Starscream was rather worried about the latter contest—in his experience, playing chess with Prowl was simply a matter of seeing how long he could hold out before losing—but he felt confident that he could defeat the Aerialbots. As a gestalt team they possessed almost preternatural coordination in the air, but as individual fighters their skill level was barely above that of the average human pilot. Starscream knew that for a fact because _he_ was in charge of training them. While they might wear him down after five matches, unless one of them got in a lucky shot it would be a turkey shoot. As for the battle-hardened Powerglide, Starscream had a plan for beating him that couldn't fail.

Overall, he had come off rather well from his confrontation with Optimus—far better than he had expected, really. _I should try begging more often,_ he decided with a smirk. _It's much more effective than I thought._ He was simply relieved that everyone had fallen for the "human ritual battle" thing—he hadn't known about that custom when he challenged Skywarp, but it made a convenient post hoc justification for his actions. Sure, maybe it _was_ immature and silly to fight over femmes, but if it worked he would do it! Let Ms. Buckrinia's other wannabe boyfriends rely on flowers and poems—he would present her with those_ and_ the glory of his victories over Skywarp and Megatron. _I'd like to see those saps try to match that!_ Starscream's smirk transformed into a smug grin. Now all he had to worry about was keeping his second fight with Megatron a secret from Optimus...assuming he could win the chess match with Prowl first.

"I said, checkmate," Skyfire said, drawing him back to his quarters where they were sitting cross-legged on his recharge slab, the chess board laid out between them. Sparkplug had introduced the game to the base, and it had become popular—at least in some circles.

"I hate this game," Starscream said. "Why did Optimus pick out such a rotten test?"

"Probably because he knows you're bad at it," Skyfire said, smiling. He began to clean off the board and set the pieces back up.

"Don't bother," Starscream said, pushing the board away. "I'll never win this way. For all I know Prowl's already worked out every possible permutation of game moves and I'm doomed already. I'm gonna try something else."

"I hope you don't mean what I think you do," Skyfire said warningly. Starscream just chuckled at that.

"No—besides, Prowl remembers where all the pieces are. He would notice if I moved one when he wasn't looking. What I'm thinking is that there must be a way to psych him out and make him forget his 32 billion move strategy."

"How'll that work?" Skyfire asked dubiously.

"I don't know yet," Starscream admitted. "I'm still thinking."

"Well, you'd better hurry it up," Skyfire said, dropping the chess pieces one by one into the box. "You've only got...eighteen hours now."

"I know, I know."

"Hm, I think we're missing a white pawn," Skyfire said, dropping in the last piece. "Is there anything on the floor over by you?"

"I think it must have rolled into the crack behind my desk," Starscream said distractedly. "Just make an extra one in the matter duplicator."

"I must say, Wheeljack and Perceptor's invention is coming in handy," Skyfire observed. "Maybe we should duplicate you, and then you can team up with yourself against Skywarp. After all, the duplicate would technically still be you."

The words triggered a spark that seemed to flash through Starscream's neurocircuitry like a brilliant bolt of lightning, illuminating the course of action he had been searching for in icy clear light.

"That's it!" he exclaimed.

"I didn't mean that seriously," Skyfire said.

"No, no," Starscream said. "I know how I can beat Prowl."

"...Well, how?"

An ironical smirk crept over Starscream's face.

"First, we need to pay another visit on Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, and then..."

When he had finished explaining his plan to Skyfire, he had to laugh. The look on his friend's face was utterly priceless.

* * *

The chess match was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes, and a crowd of bored spectators had gathered around Prowl's table at the mess hall to listen to him discourse upon the outcome of the upcoming game. The Aerialbots stood in a tight knot nearby, whispering amongst themselves and laughing.

"Chess is like tic-tac-toe," the Grand Master explained to his audience. "There are only a certain number of distinct possible games. If both players are aware of those permutations and select their moves rationally, the game must inevitably prove a tie."

"Really? How many permutations are there?" Bumblebee asked.

"About ten raised to the hundred and seventieth power," Prowl answered, unmoved by the admiring noises that greeted his answer.

"So is this gonna be a tie then?" Wheeljack called from the back.

"I don't believe that Starscream has all the solutions worked out," Prowl replied. "However, I won't deny the possibility."

The bookies—Sideswipe and Sunstreaker—seemed pleased by that statement. Sideswipe called out,

"I'll give anyone twenty to one odds on Starscream for a tie, fifty to one for a win!"

"Don't throw away your money!" Cliffjumper shouted.

"Well, someone has to root for the underdog," Hound declared cheerfully. "I'll lay down some cash."

A flicker of annoyance passed over Sideswipe's face, but the expression was quickly replaced by a broad smile.

"That's the spirit, Hound! Anyone else want to support our Air Commander?"

"I'd like to bet eighty liters of energon," Slingshot spoke up from the Aerialbot huddle.

"Alright, Slingshot!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"On Prowl. To win," Slingshot finished, grinning wickedly. The assembled Autobots broke up in laughter.

"What's so funny?" Starscream asked, striding into the messhall with Skyfire and Optimus Prime in tow.

"Your own guys are betting against you!" Cliffjumper exclaimed, pointing at the Aerialbots, who all pointed at Slingshot, who pointed at himself with an innocent expression.

"Your show of support touches me deeply," Starscream observed laconically.

"P! R! O! W! L!" Slingshot cheered. "Yaaaaaay, Prowl!"

"You've gotta dig your own grave with a backhoe, don't you?" Silverbolt said, shaking his head.

Optimus Prime held up his hands for silence, and after a moment the hubbub quieted.

"Alright, Prowl, Starscream. Are you ready to begin?"

"Affirmative," "No," Prowl and Starscream answered simultaneously.

"I can't play here in the messhall," Starscream explained. "I need a quiet room so that I can concentrate."

"That would be helpful," Prowl agreed, glancing around at the crowd.

"How about one of the storage rooms on level two?" Starscream suggested. "We can set up the table in there."

"Fine by me," Prowl said.

"I'll set it up," Bumblebee volunteered.

"And I'll help—to make sure Starscream's not trying to cheat!" Slingshot exclaimed.

"Would _I_ do that?" Starscream asked innocently.

"Naw, you'd just give yourself a little extra help," Ironhide chuckled, coming up and giving him a slap on the wing. "I remember back during the seige of—"

"I did not cheat!" Starscream exclaimed. "The wind blew your piece off the board!"

"Of course," Ironhide drawled. "And I'm a sports racer."

"We were using shreds of plastine," Starscream said defensively as the group clucked their figurative tongues at him. "It was a small piece!"

"And then there was the battle of Boron Ridge," Ironhide continued.

"How was I to know we were playing your weird variation?" Starscream protested. "I thought teleportation was a legal move!"

"And let's not forget—" Ironhide began, but Starscream quickly interrupted,

"And speaking of rules, how much time do we get for each move?"

"Would two minutes be acceptable?" Prowl offered.

"Can it be one minute, and we forfeit if we go overtime?" Starscream asked. "I want to finish while there's still light so I can pick out a car for Ms. Buckrinia."

Prowl hesitated.

"But the rules say—"

"Oh, who cares what they say? I just want to get this over with," Starscream insisted. "One minute isn't too fast for you, is it?"

"No," Prowl admitted.

"Good," Starscream said. "Then it's settled. One minute moves and we forfeit if we don't play by then. Hound? Do you want to be the official time keeper?"

"Sure," the jeep responded.

"Alright then, let's get started!"

A few minutes later the two competitors were seated at opposite sides of a dusty supply crate, an outsized chess board placed between them. Hound sat off to one side, a smile pulling convulsively at the corner of his mouth. Skyfire was seated on another crate, guarding the door. The cargo jet's gaze drifted towards Prowl, then quickly darted away again.

"Get ready, get set—" Hound began.

"Wait," Starscream said. "Before we begin, Prowl, I want to offer you a chance to surrender now."

"Why would I do that?" Prowl asked.

"Because I have a secret weapon that ensures me victory, and I'd prefer not to have to deploy it."

"Oh? What is it?"

"I said, it's a secret," Starscream answered pointedly.

"Is it a chess gambit?"

"No. "

"Is it an improvised explosive device?"

"No."

"Is it—"

"Let's not play twenty questions," Starscream said curtly. "Suffice to say, it will have devastating effects."

"While I appreciate the warning, I'm duty-bound to defeat you," Prowl replied calmly. Then with a faint smile, he added, "Besides, you picque my curiousity."

"Then I apologize in advance," Starscream said simply.

"Apology accepted."

"Are we ready now?" Hound asked, looking from one Autobot to the other.

"Ready," Starscream replied.

"Then go!"

Instead of reaching for a chess piece, Starscream opened a small compartment in his arm. Reaching inside, he pulled out something small and green and held it up triumphantly.

"Behold, my secret weapon!"

Prowl leaned closer, examining it.

"A leaf?"

"Not just any leaf, Prowl. A four leaf clover. They bring good luck."

The tactician simply stared for a moment.

"Is this meant to be amusing?" he asked at last.

"It may be amusing now, but how amusing will it be when I have forty thousand of them and you don't have any?" Starscream gloated. "Sideswipe will arrive in a few minutes to take this one to the matter duplicator. When he returns, he'll bring with him an entire bushel of good luck charms."

"I didn't realize you believed in these sorts of things," Prowl observed reservedly, glancing over at Skyfire as if to say, "I suppose we must humor the poor madmech in his delusions." Skyfire, however, was contemplating the ceiling.

"Of course I do!" Starscream responded emphatically. "For example, I never order an attack if the clouds are cumulus because they're bad luck. Stratus clouds, on the other hand, always mean good luck. Nimbus clouds, eh, you never know with them."

"What about cirrus clouds?" Hound piped up.

"That's a tricky one. They're only good luck if—"

"How much time is left?" Skyfire interrupted.

"Oh, a good fifteen seconds," Hound answered.

"14.96, to be precise," Prowl corrected.

Starscream moved out a black knight.

"Now, as I was saying, it depends with cirrus clouds. If they're oriented east to west, that's good luck, but—"

There was a tap at the door. Skyfire reached over and depressed the door control, and the two halves split apart to reveal Sideswipe.

"You wanted me?" the red Lamborghini asked, peering in at Starscream.

"Yes," Starscream replied. "I need you to take this clover to the matter duplicator and make me forty thousand more. And while you're at it, how about checking the clouds?"

"Uh...the clouds?"

"Yes. I need to know if they're lucky today."

"Riiiiight," Sideswipe said, smiling a bit too widely. He grabbed the clover from Starscream's fingertips and then retreated back out the door as quickly as he could.

Prowl advanced a white pawn.

"Your move."

"Ah yes, where was I?" Starscream said, leaning forward on his elbows and examining the board. "Oh yes—cirrus clouds are bad luck when they go north to south. Only the cardinal points are important. So northeast to southwest, for example, is an ambiguous sign."

"What if there's a mixture of cumulus clouds and stratus clouds?" Skyfire asked.

"They cancel either out, of course."

"What about stratocumulus clouds?" Hound asked.

"Same thing."

"Wait, so if we're fighting the Decepticons under a stratus cloud, we have good luck, right? But what about the 'Cons? Isn't getting beaten bad luck for them?" Hound asked.

"Uhm..." Starscream responded. "How much time do I have left?"

"Forty seconds. Answer the question."

"Well, uh, you see...There are many forms of luck, like, uh, delayed luck. So under a nimbus cloud, they might get good luck while we only get mediocre luck."

"O-oh. I see. So luck doesn't always have an immediate effect."

"No," Starscream said, shaking his head. "At least not for mass forms. But for good luck charms, the effect is always immediate."

"How do you know that?" Skyfire asked.

"Painstaking experimentation under field conditions."

"I hope you used a good control," Skyfire said.

"You'd better move," Hound suggested. Starscream carelessly advanced a pawn.

"Your turn."

Prowl studied the board, and Starscream began humming "Here comes the bride..." After a moment he started to drum out the beat on the table with his fingertips.

"If you're trying to distract me, it isn't going to work," Prowl warned.

"Sorry, I was getting bored waiting for you to move."

Prowl advanced another pawn. Immediately Starscream mimicked the maneuver.

"Your turn."

"You don't seem to be trying very hard," the tactician noted, again studying the board.

"Ha, I'm not even worried about losing," Starscream answered. "Want to forfeit now and save me the trouble of beating you?"

"I don't think so," Prowl responded, moving out a knight.

* * *

_30 minutes later._

"Check."

Starscream slid his last piece—the king—one square back, then stood up to pace feverishly around the room. Prowl moved one of his queens down a row.

"Check."

"Where is Sideswipe?" Starscream screeched, slamming himself back into his chair hard enough to make the pieces rattle. "He should have been back 20 minutes ago!"

"Why don't you give him a call?" Hound suggested. "Maybe he got distracted or something."

"I've been trying nonstop for the last 10 minutes! He won't answer!"

"Have you tried Sunstreaker?"

"Yes!"

"Huh...wonder where they could be," Hound said.

"You could be in luck, I hear someone coming now," Skyfire broke in, stepping out of the doorway.

Starscream leapt for the door only to come up short as it split apart to reveal a sheepish looking Sideswipe with a single four leaf clover in his hand.

"Where have you been?" Starscream howled.

"Uh, well... That's errr..." Sideswipe glanced down the hallway, then looked at the floor, and finally looked at Prowl. "Well, I've got some good news and some sort-of-good-sort-of-bad news."

A faintly uneasy expression flickered across Prowl's face.

"What did you do?" he asked simply.

"Nothing bad...uh, I don't think," Sideswipe said. "Hey, well, here's the good news for you... The Decepticons are gonna be toast."

"Where are my clovers?" Starscream demanded.

"Maybe you better sit down for this, Screamer. Keep playing, don't let us stop you old buddy, heheh," Sideswipe said, toeing the ground while seeming to force a smile.

Starscream slowly sat back down, but didn't move.

"What happened?" he queried.

"Yeah, that's the sorta good sorta bad news...See, I was gonna duplicate your clover, so first I went and got Sunstreaker to help me carry them all back. Then I went over to the machine and held the clover in the place where you put stuff to duplicate it. Well, it turns out the beam isn't too precise about what's supposed to be duplicated."

There was dead silence.

"And, well..." Sideswipe continued, glancing over at Skyfire, "We did manage to duplicate the clover, only we sorta duplicated ourselves too."

Prowl bolted up from the table, knocking his chair to the floor. Starscream sat immobile, staring at Sideswipe. As if in a trance, he slowly reached forward and moved his king another square.

"W-h-a-t?" Prowl said slowly, enunciating the word letter by letter as if to emphasize the dawning horror of the revelation. "What did you say?" He half stumbled towards the door. With a nervous laugh Sideswipe blocked his way.

"Maybe, maybe you should, uh, sit down and just take it easy for a bit, after all I know this is probably a bit of a shock and maybe it would be better if we just take it one step at a time—"

Prowl thrust him out of the way and peered down the hallway, the others crowding closely behind.

Dozens of pairs of blue optics met his. Dozens of guilty grins returned his gape. Dozens of hands rose to give him a placating little wave.

"What have you done?" Prowl blurted at the closest Sideswipe.

"We were just doing what Starscream told us to," all the Sideswipes answered as one.

"It's his fault, not ours," another Sideswipe said, pointing at the first one "We were just innocent victims."

"On the plus side, the base looks a lot better now," a Sunstreaker observed proudly, glancing around at his doppelgangers.

"And, think how easy it will be to beat the Decepticons now that we outnumber them five to one," Sideswipe interjected. "This is really a good thing."

"Good!" Prowl exclaimed in horror. "Good?!"

As if already bored by the whole scene, one of the Sideswipes pulled a spray can from subspace and shot a blast of silly string at a nearby Sunstreaker.

"Hey!" the other exclaimed, batting the can away and shoving the Sideswipe down, making him fall against another Sunstreaker.

"Agh, you scratched my finish!" the Sunstreaker cried angrily. He aimed a kick at Sideswipe and a punch at the first Sunstreaker.

"Hey bro, leave my pal alone," a second Sideswipe warned, grabbing the Sunstreaker by the arm.

"Shut up, this is our fight," the first Sunstreaker snapped back brusquely, only to be caught in the leg by the downed Sideswipe.

"Fellow Sideswipes, help me!" the Sideswipe shouted.

"Sunstreakers, help!" the Sunstreaker yelled. Then all was chaos. Before aghast gaze of Prowl, the hallway turned into a writhing bedlam of red and yellow and the walls resounded with the crash of ringing blows, curses, and howls of pain.

Then, incongruously, a nasal chuckle of amusement from the side. Prowl broke his gaze from the brawl for a moment to see Starscream standing next to him, a gleeful expression on his face.

"Time's up. You forfeit," the Seeker said. Suddenly, all the Sunstreakers and Sideswipes froze in place. Then all but two shimmered away into nothingness. The two that remained climbed up from the floor and brushed themselves off. Prowl stared incomprehendingly for a moment, then whirled around to find Hound standing behind him, grinning. He looked past Hound to the chess board, where Starscream's sole remaining piece stood but one move away from checkmate. Suddenly all became clear.

"So," Prowl observed calmly. "A trick."

"Yup," Sideswipe answered, bursting into a gale of laughter. "And boy, did you ever fall for it! You should've seen the expression on your face...! Oh, man! I can't wait to show everyone the recording!"

"You scratched my leg for real," Sunstreaker whined.

"It took you two long enough to get here!" Starscream snapped. "I was only one move away from checkmate."

"Oh come on, Screamer—if we hadn't waited until you were good and wound up Prowl would have seen right through the whole thing."

Starscream just scowled in response, then abruptly he turned to Prowl and offered good naturedly,

"I told you I was sorry in advance. I had to do it for Ms. Buckrinia, you see."

"This outcome was not unexpected," Prowl admitted. "Prime and I predicted that if you retained your cognitive abilities you would anticipate your own defeat and seek an alternative means of victory. I envisioned several strategems you might employ, but this was not one of them."

The statement triggered a burst of laughter from the twins.

"What he means is that he never saw it coming," Sideswipe paraphrased gleefully.

Prowl turned to Starscream and offered him a dignified handshake.

"Very well, I concede the game."

"Thank you," Starscream said, shaking his hand exuberantly. "Now I just have to beat Powerglide and the Aerialbots and Skywarp! And then Ms. Buckrinia will be mine at last!"

* * *

"Thank goodness the hard part's over with. Now I have time to work on my poem," Starscream said cheerfully as he strode back to his quarters, Skyfire at his side. "Do you think Ms. Buckrinia's gotten her new car yet?"

"I would imagine," Skyfire replied.

"I bet she's driving it already! I think I'll go see it when I'm done."

Skyfire said nothing.

They returned to his quarters and Starscream waited impatiently while the laser printer slowly regurgitated a tiny sheet of paper. When it was finished he plucked it out of the tray with his finger tweezers and read it. _Your eyes are like sapphire geodes/Your gaze makes all my servos quiver..._

"This is terrible!" he exclaimed. "I don't know how I could ever have thought it was worthy of her."

"Can I look at it?" Skyfire asked, reaching for the paper.

"No!" Starscream yipped, jerking it away. "I don't want anyone reading this but her."

"Okay, okay," Skyfire said, holding up his hands. Starscream eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then tucked the paper into subspace and sat back down at his computer with a sigh.

* * *

_Five hours later._

"I _hate_ poetry," Starscream moaned, slumping back in his chair and gazing in despair at the computer screen. His phrasing was clumsy, his choice of words inept. There seemed to be no superlatives capable of expressing either the inexpressible beauty of Ms. Buckrinia or the indescribable feelings that welled up inside of him whenever he thought of her.

"Maybe you should take a break and do something else," Skyfire suggested, for the fourth time in two hours.

"Never," Starscream vowed, leaning back towards the monitor.

"I mean, maybe you should go see if Ms. Buckrinia got your present."

Starscream's mouth fell open. How could he have forgotten about _that?_

"Well, I suppose a little break _is_ in order," he agreed. "I wonder what she said when she found out it was from me?"

"I couldn't say," Skyfire said blandly.

"You mean you could, but you won't," Starscream retorted. "You still don't think we're meant for each other, do you?"

"No, I don't," Skyfire replied. "I may have agreed not to obstruct your plans, but that doesn't mean I think she'll marry you."

"Of course, you're entitled to your unfounded and completely speculative opinion," Starscream said. "However, it's plain to me that we're perfect for one another."

Skyfire opened his mouth to respond, but the door buzzer drowned out his words. Quickly flicking off the computer, Starscream called,

"Come in!"

The doors drew apart to reveal Jazz and a grumpy-looking Blaster.

"Hey, Optimus wants to talk to you—alone," Jazz said, looking towards Skyfire. Starscream's optics narrowed fractionally. Why wasn't he invited, unless the discussion was about him?

"Are you going to fill in for me here?" Skyfire asked, gesturing towards him.

"You got it," Jazz nodded. "You gotta need a break by now."

"But we were just about to go to Ms. Buckrinia's house," Starscream protested. "...Of course, I'd be happy to go alone."

"Absolutely not," Skyfire said.

"Course not. We'll be goin' with ya, Screamer," Jazz responded, giving him a rather sour smile.

"How considerate of you to keep me company."

"You bet we are. Because we could be groovin' at the Battle of the Bands right now if it weren't for you," Blaster said.

"And the tickets cost us all four hubcaps," Jazz added.

"Can't someone else fill in for you?" Skyfire asked.

"Everyone's got an excuse," Blaster sighed. "We're like the only ones who aren't busy—or getting ready to go on furlough." He shot a penetrating look at Starscream. "Funny thing how certain people's names came up so suddenly on the roster, isn't it?"

"Complain to Ratchet. _I_ don't maintain the computer system," Starscream responded blithely.

"Well, tell you what—I'll try to finish my meeting up with Optimus quickly, and then I'll come back and take over," Skyfire offered.

"Deal!" Blaster exclaimed. "You don't mind, Screamer?"

"Of course not," Starscream said. "In fact, maybe one of you can give me some advice on my poem." Blaster and Jazz stared at him incomprehendingly. "What?" he demanded. They quickly jerked their heads away.

"Alright, I'll be back soon. Just don't let him out of your sight, okay?" Skyfire said as he stood up and made for the door. The cargo jet looked at him with a half apologetic expression. "Also, if he tries to fly off, I'm afraid you'll have to shoot him down as quickly as you can. He's very maneuverable when he gets going, and—"

Starscream's mouth fell open in outrage. Jazz just laughed.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of Screamer for you."

"Thanks," Starscream said bitingly.

"Sorry. I just don't want you jumping into a slag pit or challenging the Decepticon Air Commander or something like that. I hope you have a good time at Ms. Buckrinia's." With a little shrug, Skyfire ducked out the door.

"Some friend!" Starscream exclaimed. "Now I know what he really thinks."

"C'mon, don't take it like that. He's only worried about you," Jazz chuckled.

"He practically told you to shoot to kill if I—"

Suddenly the door slid open again and Skyfire stepped back in. Starscream fixed him with a glare as cold and sharp as an icicle.

"Just one more thing." Skyfire began. "Take out the power chip rectifier for his null rays. I almost forgot about that."

"Thank goodness you remembered in time," Starscream said sweetly.

"Also, don't drink any energon he offers you."

"It might be poisoned," Starscream agreed.

"And if he should seem to be malfunctioning—"

Skyfire was still trying to think of advice as Jazz and Blaster hustled him out the door.

"How paranoid!" Starscream exclaimed. Jazz and Blaster looked at him grimly.

"Hand over your PCR," Jazz ordered.

* * *

A few minutes later they were soaring through the fresh night air, following the familiar gravel road that led towards Ms. Buckrinia's house. Starscream cast his optics eagerly forwards, searching for the little farmhouse.

"Hurry up!" he called. Jazz and Blaster were following him at a sluggish pace, their cheap antigravs barely seeming to hold them up. But flying was still faster—and quieter—than driving. Starscream made a mental note to have everyone equipped with new mufflers when he got back. Ms. Buckrinia's peace and quiet musn't be disturbed by loud vehicles roaring past day and night.

"What you gonna do at Ms. Buckrinia's house?" Jazz asked, slowing drawing up by his side.

"I'm going to see if she's gotten her new car yet," Starscream said. "It's a red Ferrari."

"Oh, then you didn't go with the Lamborghini?"

"I thought the Decepticons might see her driving down the road in it and mistake it for Sideswipe. _That_ wouldn't be good."

"That'd be a real shame," Blaster agreed. "It being a new car and all."

"Terrible shame!" Jazz agreed.

"Yeah, I'm glad I thought of that before I bought it."

"So..." Blaster spoke up from the back. "We were thinking about trying to win back some of the energon we lost on Prowl. What do you think of your chances tomorrow against the Aerialbots and co?"

Starscream chuckled. "Piece of pie."

"Cake, man! Cake!" Blaster corrected .

"But I thought it was 'easy as cake' and 'piece of pie'?"

"You've got 'em mixed up. It's 'easy as pie' and 'piece of cake.'"

"What is it with humans and dessert pastries?" Starscream said.

"But back to the point," Jazz said. "You seem pretty confident. Got something up your sleeve?"

"I don't have sleeves," Starscream replied, grinning.

"Just answer the question," Jazz groaned.

"No, I don't have anything special planned...well, except for Powerglide. But that's a secret."

"So you're pretty much just gonna duke it out then?" Blaster asked dubiously. "One against seven, to the death?"

"You mean one against six," Starscream corrected. "And it's not as if it'll be that hard. The Aerialbots may be tough as a team because of their gestalt coordination, but as individuals they...still have a lot to learn." He refrained from mentioning that during the last training session Fireflight and Silverbolt had collided during basic formation flying because Silverbolt was too afraid of heights to look down and Fireflight was too engrossed by the scenery to look up.

"No, seven—the Aerialbots, Powerglide, and Swoop," Blaster insisted. "And what do you mean about the Aerialbots? You _are_ going to have to fight them as a team."

Starscream shook his head.

"I think you misunderstood the contest rules. There are going to be six fights, one against each Aerialbot and Powerglide. I don't know what you're talking about with Swoop."

"Uh...I think you're the one who misunderstood the rules," Jazz spoke up. "I heard Optimus say that you were going to have to fight all the Aerialbots. At once. And Powerglide and Swoop too."

"I don't think so," Starscream said. "I never heard him say that."

"He did," Blaster insisted. "He claimed that you once said that fighting Skywarp was like fighting five people at once, so six should be a good test. You said that was fine."

"No I didn't."

"And then, Grimlock insisted that Swoop should be in the contest too, and you nodded and said it sounded good."

"I did not!"

"You sure did," Blaster confirmed. "And I can even play back a recording if you want."

"Okay, then do it."

Blaster pressed a button on his waist. A moment later Optimus' voice could be heard saying,

"Very well then, it's settled. Starscream will fight against you five, Powerglide and Swoop. The contest will be held tomorrow afternoon."

Then his own voice, obviously distracted: "Uh-huh. Sounds like a plan."

"See?" Blaster said, cutting off the feed.

"I think Screamer's beginnin' to get cold feet," Jazz chuckled.

Starscream just flew on in a silent stupor. He didn't remember agreeing to that! ...Although of course he hadn't exactly been paying that much attention after he had gotten the gist of Optimus' idea. Optimus had gone on and on about the chess match, and then about the duel, and then Starscream had gotten an idea for a new stanza for his poem, and the next thing he knew he was reworking his verses into hexameter and then suddenly everyone was leaving and Skyfire had asked him if he wanted to play chess. He didn't even remember Grimlock being there. ..._Oh wait, he came in at the end. Scrap iron._

"I'm dead."

"You really gotta start paying attention during briefings," Blaster said.

"It's not fair!" Starscream cried. "I didn't mean to agree to that!"

"Too late now. Well, I guess I know where to put my energon."

"Go ahead and invest your life savings," Starscream said bitterly. "It won't be in any danger. Optimus obviously wants me to fail."

Then he spotted it. Illuminated in the faint glow of a porchlight was the familiar farmhouse with its chicken coop, rabbit hutch, and vegetable garden, protected all around by a windbreak of pines. Parked on the roadside beyond the trees was the Ferrari, its elegant curves glimmering in the moonlight.

"Looks like she got her car," Jazz said. "She must be one happy li'l ol' lady."

Starscream just beamed, and all thoughts of his imminent doom vaporized from his mind. The car was everything he had hoped it would be—now he just wanted to see Ms. Buckrinia behind the wheel, roaring down the gravel road that led to headquarters, her metallic gray hair whipping in the wind and a big smile on her face...

Suddenly he noticed something white pinned underneath one of the car's windshield wipers—a folded piece of paper. He frowned, his face clouding. _A parking ticket! How dare they!_ He turned quickly to his minders.

"I'll be back in a moment. I'm going to go deal with that ticket."

"Okay. Just don't try anything funny," Blaster warned.

Without deigning to reply, Starscream swooped downward. He landed next to the car with a gravelly crunch and reached for the ticket—only to pause in surprise.

It didn't look like a traffic ticket. The paper was thick and stiff and had a border of flowers around the margin. Puzzled, he pulled it out and held it up to his optics. Definitely not a ticket—instead of little form fields, there was a paragraph of big spidery handwriting. The flowing cursive script was difficult to read in the darkness, and he drew the paper right up to his optics as he tried to decipher the letters:

_Dear... _

_ Starscream..._

"It's for me!" he cried, then rushed on to the next line.

_Dear Starscream, you slimy, stinking, rotten bucket of sun-baked fishbait, get this car out of here before I have you and it towed! I hope the police arrest you and your circus of chimpanzees and lock you up like the cowardly Decepticon Commie scum you are. _

_ Sincerely,_

_ Ms. Buckrinia_

_ P.S. Send me any more roses and I'll blast you away!_

As Starscream stared in ecstatic horror at the note, he felt a supernova explode inside of him and then collapse into a black hole. Then his legs melted away beneath him, and he tumbled backwards into the roadside ditch. Too dazed to move from that position, he lay there and stared up into the sky. Above him, the stars swirled around in fantastic patterns, and two especially large and solid ones dropped down on either side of him and began to utter strange sounds.

"Starscream, you alright?...Careful, it could be a ruse...What happened...I don't know...What's that in his hand?...Give it to me..."

Then he felt a tug on the note still clenched between his fingers, and suddenly the world fell back into its proper order again.

"Let go!" he blurted, sitting up and jerking the note away from Blaster. "That's mine!"

"Shhh! You'll wake Ms. Buckinia!" Blaster hissed back.

"Are you alright?" Jazz asked.

"Great," Starscream snapped. "Except for the knife sticking out of my soul." He brought the note up to his optics and began to read it again.

"The what in your what?" Blaster said.

"Shh! I'm try to read!"

But now the paper trembled in his hands, making the words dance about the page. He felt sick—how she hated him! But how ingenious her insults were! And she was not only clever, but astoundingly courageous. Even a battle-hardened Decepticon warrior would think twice about attacking him, yet Ms. Buckrinia would joyfully blast him away without a second thought. He gazed at the letter in wonder. She had the most beautiful handwriting he had ever seen. To think she had written the lovely hate letter in his hand...! To think that he was holding something that she had touched!

An animal noise of longing surged out him, and he tore a fistful of weeds out of the ditch and hurled it away. The more she hated him, the more he loved her! Half of him felt like bashing himself against hard things, while the other half wanted to dance exultantly through the clouds. He read the words of the letter again, and again, and again, and again.

"Even your curses are sweet to me," he groaned at last, looking miserably down the driveway where Ms. Buckrinia's porchlight could be seen shining faintly through the trees.

"Bad news, I take it?" Jazz asked.

Starscream made no reply. Instead he folded up the paper, sealed it shut with a tender kiss, and tucked it carefully away into subspace. Standing up, he faced towards Ms. Buckrinia's house.

"I swear I will win your heart or die in the attempt!" he whispered. "I swear it!"

"She called you a Commie chimpanzee again, didn't she?" Blaster said helpfully, standing up. "I don't see—"

Suddenly Starscream's mind went blank as one tiny electron of thought jumped across a gap and made a connection. He gave an audible gasp.

"Blaster, that's it!" Starscream cried. "You're my new best friend!"

"Come again...?" Blaster said, looking at him in bewilderment.

"Now I see why Ms. Buckrinia is so angry at me," Starscream exclaimed. "Don't you see? You said it yourself!"

Blaster exchanged a wary glance with Jazz as the other rose to his feet.

"What did I say?"

"I gave Ms. Buckrinia a red Ferrari," Starscream explained impatiently. "And a bouquet of roses."

"So?"

"The roses were red, just like the car. Argh, why didn't I realize this sooner!" Starscream slapped his forehead in recrimination.

"For the third time, _what?_"Blaster demanded.

"Isn't it obvious? Ms. Buckrinia thinks I'm a Red!" Blaster's mouth fell open. "There's only one thing to do," Starscream continued determinedly. "I'll go on television and prove that I love capitalism and hate those leftist Pinko traitor Commie—"

His words were cut short as Jazz clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Hey man, you wanna start World War III? No way is Optimus gonna let you—"

Starscream pushed Jazz's hand away impatiently.

"We'll let Optimus decide that," he said. "I won't have Ms. Buckrinia believing that I want her country taken over by the Reds."

"C'mon Starscream, you're blowing this _way_ outta proportion," Blaster said pleadingly. "Red's romantic, not Communistic. So you gave her a red car and red roses. It's not like you painted red stars on your wings and went around singing the l'Internationale or something."

"Sing—! That's it!" Starscream gasped. "Blaster, you really are a genius!"

"Stop giving him ideas!" Jazz exclaimed.

"I gotta learn to mute my mouth," Blaster groaned.

"I'll display my love for the American way of life _and_ show Ms. Buckrinia how much I love her—with a midnight serenade!" Starscream said gleefully. "I'll sing her the one about the star spangled banner—" He trailed off as Jazz and Blaster made a sickly whimpering noise in unison. "_Now_ what's wrong?" he demanded.

"Starscream, this is a terrible idea," Blaster said flatly.

"He's right," Jazz affirmed.

"And why do you say that?"

"Ehm...Well, you wanna tell him, Jazz?" Blaster said, looking at over at his companion.

"Why don't you?"

"'Cause I've got a furlough coming up in two months that I don't want to miss. You tell him."

"What? Tell me what already?" Starscream demanded.

"Uh...Well..." Jazz glanced at Blaster, then back to him. "See, it's like this...uhhhhh...The Star-Spangled Banner has a range of one and half octaves. So, it's a really difficult song to sing."

"Yeah," Blaster agreed eagerly. "You don't wanna mess it up by mistake. It's really hard. Terribly difficult."

"Oh," Starscream said, disappointed. "...Well, how about the one that goes, 'My country is a tree?' Or that one about the purple mountains and the vegetable plains? Those don't sound very hard."

"It's _fruited_ plains," Jazz corrected quickly. "See, you shouldn't sing 'em if you don't know the lyrics."

"Jazz is right," Blaster agreed, "You'd only be makin' things worse."

"Things can't possibly get any worse," Starscream said decisively. "Let's just try the Star-Spangled Banner. I've heard it at so many army get togethers that I know the lyrics by heart. And since it's a difficult song, I'll not only impress Ms. Buckrinia with my patriotism, I'll also show her how dedicated I am to making her happy!"

Again, Jazz and Blaster gave a coordinated moan, this time mixed in with funny little snorting, sobbing noises.

"Just what is the matter with you two?" Starscream demanded. Neither answered, and a long moment passed before they met his gaze.

"Okay, Screamer, you're a good Air Commander, but..." Blaster said at last, one corner of his mouth twitching convulsively. "As your new best friend, I think you should know..." he struggled for a moment. "Uh, you see, a lotta guys think...uh...that...uh..."

"If you don't spit it out in the next ten seconds—"

"I was just going to ask which version of the Star-Scrambled—uh, I mean, the Star-Spangled Banner you wanted," Blaster said. "I've got a couple of classy modern remixes that are real crowd pleasers. A lot of guys think they're first class."

Jazz snorted and shook his head. Blaster shot a scowl back at him. Starscream stared suspiciously from one to the other, trying to glean a meaning from their silent communication. They looked at the ground. Finally Starscream grew impatient.

"Just give me the one they always sing at the Air Force base. I know that one best."

"Okay, classic version it is," Blaster said with a grimace. "Let me know when you're ready."

"Let's get closer first," Starscream suggested, indicating the black mass of the farmhouse lying at the end of the driveway.

Together they tiptoed down the gravel path, making their way towards the dim circle of yellow cast by the moth-beseiged porchlight. When they reached to the edge of the illuminated area, Starscream held up a hand and called Jazz and Blaster to a halt.

"Transform and prepare to play," he whispered. Blaster obeyed, his limbs shifting and snapping together until he settled on the ground in boombox mode.

"Okay, Screamer—say when."

Starscream paused for a moment, his gaze travelling up to the half-open window in the upper story of the house. He knew by some lover's instinct that Ms. Buckrinia was reposing there just behind the silken curtains, her eyes closed serenely, her head resting upon her pillow, a lock of silvery hair falling over her cheek. The picture was so vivid, so lovely that for a moment he wanted to reach out and brush the lock away so he could press a kiss as gentle as the evening breeze there. To think that she would soon awaken to hear him singing out of the darkness, declaring his love for her like a nightingale... _I'll wake you with song my love! My beauty, my delight, my Buckrinia!_ What felt like a salvo of fireworks exploded in his soul. Atremble with excitement and desire, he turned to Blaster and whispered,

"Play the music!"

"Here goes," Blaster muttered. "A-one and a two and a one, two, three, four—"

A moment later the first notes of the "The Star-Spangled Banner" burst forth through the night. Starscream threw himself into song.

"O! say can you seeeeeee, by the dawn's early liiiiight; what so proudly we hailed, at the twilight's last gleaming—"

He detected movement out of the corner of his optic and turned his head slightly to find Jazz wringing his hands together like a pair of flailing octopi. An expression of such anguish writhed about the other's face that Starscream's voice almost faltered for a moment. _What's the matter with him?_ _He looks like he's being tortured!_ But he had no time to seek an answer. Ms. Buckrinia could appear at any moment!

"Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight, o'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming—" There! He had seen the curtain move! ...Or was it just the wind? "—And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the niiiiight, that our flag was still there..."

He waited in an agony of anticipation, watching the curtains for any further sign of life. They hung motionless. A terrible fear began to coalesce inside him. What if Ms. Buckrinia didn't like his singing? Was he off key? Had he forgotten a verse? A feeling of desperation came over him, and he belted out the words as loudly as he could, his vocalizer straining to the utmost as he tried to provoke a response.

"Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet waaaave—"

A light came on behind the curtains. A moment later Ms. Buckrinia's melodious voice could be heard shouting,

"Shaddup ya dumb cat!" Starscream felt his soul soar into the air on a cloud of rapture. Ms. Buckrinia was telling her housepet to be quiet so that she could hear him better! All the passion that burned for expression inside of him rushed out in a flood of heartfelt words that ended the song:

"O'er the laaaand of the freeeeeeeeeee_eeeeeeeeee_—"

There was a shattering noise and the windows of the house collapsed in shards. Glass trickled down the walls in a clinking waterfall and pooled in the grass below.

"Holy cats!" Jazz gasped.

Starscream just gaped in silent horror. Then a hand drew the curtains apart, revealing a half-furious, half-terrified Ms. Buckrinia. A shotgun was tucked under her arm. Their eyes met.

"You!" she bellowed.

"I am so sorry!"

"I'll show you sorry!" Ms. Buckrinia screamed, throwing the gun to her shoulder.

"Run for it!" Jazz exclaimed, grabbing Blaster and transforming into car mode around him. He raced past, tires spraying gravel as he spun out down the driveway. Ms. Buckrinia fired. There was a roar and Starscream felt a cloud of pellets lash into his face. Instinctively he shielded his optics with his hand. _Boom!_ A second blast peppered his arm.

"It was an accident!" he cried. "I didn't mean to, I swear it! Please, you must believe me!"

"Die wormbag!" Ms. Buckrinia shouted, reaching back into her room and grabbing two more shotgun shells.

"No, please, please understand!" Starscream threw himself onto his knees, pressed his hands together in supplication, and wailed, "I am so, so sorry! I had no idea this would happen. I would never break your windows on purpose—I love you! I hate Communism! I love capitalism! I was just trying to show you how much I care about you! You have to understand, please!"

Her response was to pull the action back and slam it into place.

"No! I-I love you!"

_ Boom! Boom!_

Pellets blasted his face. Finally Starscream leapt to his feet and threw out his arms in surrender.

"Shoot me, melt me down, do whatever you want with me! I'll endure it all gladly for you! I love you Ms. Buckrinia! Every inch of wire, every last drop of fuel, every strut, every spar of my exostructure belongs to you, only to you!"

"Psycho!"

_ Boom! Boom!_

It felt like his face was being sandblasted, but he didn't let himself flinch.

"What shall I do? How can I prove how sorry I am? How can I show you how much I love you?"

"Go! Away!" Ms. Buckrinia screamed.

"You have only to ask!" Starscream cried, and without another thought he launched himself into the air.

_ Boom! Boom!_ A double spray of pellet caught him in the leg.

"I'm sorry!" he shouted back over his shoulder.

In response a faint, shrill cry voice rose up behind him:

"I'll kill you Starscream! Do you hear me? I'll kill you if it's the last thing I ever do! I swear it!"

Starscream buried his face in his hands and gave a forlorn howl of joy.

* * *

The door to Starscream's quarters was locked, but Skyfire could hear sad music emanating from within. Wondering what had happened this time, he depressed the door buzzer.

"Come in!" came Jazz's voice. The door slipped open. Skyfire took one step inside, then halted.

Draped over his recharge bed as limp as a banana peel, Starscream was staring at the ceiling with an expression of dumb misery. On the computer desk nearby, Blaster rested in tape deck mode, the blues emanating from his speakers.

"I take it the visit did not go well," Skyfire said.

"That's the understatement of the millennium," Jazz replied, folding his arms and nodding towards Starscream. "I'm afraid ol' Ms. Buckrinia tried to kill him."

"Turn it up, Blaster," Starscream whispered. Blaster obliged, and the soulful chorus, "Bro-o-o-oken-hearted, I'm sooo bro-o-o-ken-hearted" wailed out across the room. Skyfire knelt down at Starscream's side. The other gazed at him for a moment, gave a tragic sigh, and then went back to staring at the ceiling.

"It's all over, Skyfire," he said. "She hates me. The best thing I can do to make her happy is to stay away from her forever."

"Well..." Skyfire paused, trying to think of something to say. "What happened?"

"Tell him, Jazz," Starscream murmured.

Jazz succinctly explained what had happened, and Skyfire winced, then cringed, then covered his face with his hands in sheer embarrassment. Finally Jazz finished,

"...And that was when the glass broke. She pulled out her shotgun, blam blam, and then we all came back here."

"I don't think she'd love me now even if I beat Megatron himself," Starscream groaned. "Someone, call Optimus here. I have something to tell him."

"What?" Skyfire asked, a feeling of foreboding coming over him.

"I'm resigning my commission."

Jazz's mouth fell open and Skyfire's optics widened.

"You're what?" Skyfire asked incredulously. "Just because of Ms. Buckrinia?"

"I plan to crawl into a dark hole and live out the rest of my days there in misery and woe," Starscream answered mournfully. "It would be difficult to run the Air Command from inside a hole."

"Now I know it feels like the end of the world—" Skyfire began, the words sounding cliché even as he uttered them.

"No, it feels more like the end of the universe," Starscream interrupted bitterly.

"—But things will get better. Even a broken...emotional regulator will repair itself in time."

"Thank you for your helpful advice. Now get me Optimus."

"I'll get him," Jazz volunteered. "C'mon Blaster, you're demoralizin' everyone." He picked up Blaster and hurried out the door.

"Bring a shovel with you when you come back," Starscream wailed after them.

"For the hole?" Skyfire asked, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth in spite of himself. Starscream just nodded despondently. _Well, _Skyfire thought,_ it seems Optimus' extra security precautions will be unnecessary after all_. _ He seems to be coping relatively well. At least he's not trying to jump into a slag pit...Or is he? _Skyfire shot a penetrating glance at Starscream. Could the Seeker just be waiting for a moment unsupervised to fly off to the nearest steelworks? Skyfire sighed quietly. What had Jazz and Blaster been thinking, letting Starscream sing? They should have realized how it would end up...

At that instant the door whooshed open, admitting Optimus.

"Prime," Starscream whispered, beckoning the Autobot leader closer. "I have something to tell you." Optimus snagged the chair from behind Starscream's desk and sat down, listening. "I'd like to resign my commission."

"I see. And how did you arrive at this decision?"

"When I decided to spend the rest of my days at the bottom in a deep, dark hole."

"Did Jazz tell you what happened?" Skyfire asked, looking over at Optimus. The Autobot leader nodded.

"He said that the date ended badly."

"Badly? She wants me dead," Starscream groaned.

"And do you intend to oblige her?" Optimus asked. Skyfire fixed Starscream's face with a gaze as keen as a razor blade. As if punctured by the look alone, the Seeker gave a sigh.

"Well...no. I just—" Starscream trailed off into silence. "Being without Ms. Buckrinia is as good as being dead anyway." Optimus laid a hand on Starscream's shoulder.

"I know what it's like to lose someone you care about," he said. "I suggest you think about this for awhile before resigning. See if some time changes your perspective. Then if you still feel this way, I'll accept your resignation."

"I'll always feel this way," Starscream said hollowly. "A week, a year, a million years, it makes no difference. Of course you're just waiting for the VEX scan to come back so you can fix the hole in my soul with a code patch."

"We'll see," Optimus said simply. "But whatever happens, we'll be there for you." Giving Starscream a little pat on the shoulder, he stood up and headed out the door.

"Optimus!" Starscream cried just as the door began to close.

"What is it?" Optimus asked, poking his head back in.

"Can you bring me a shovel?" Starscream asked gloomily. "I think Jazz forgot."

* * *

Another shovelful of dirt flew out of the hole and landed on the pile. Skyfire leaned carefully over the lip of the hole to where Starscream was laboring below, a glimmer of moonlight caught on his wings the only piece of him that could be distinguished in the darkness. The pit was impressively large already, and growing deeper by the minute. Skyfire was actually rather surprised that Starscream hadn't hit bedrock yet.

"How's it coming?" he asked.

"The walls keep collapsing," Starscream said morosely. "If you could get me some rocks or tree trunks, I could reinforce them."

"I can't leave you, remember?"

"Oh yes. (Sigh) I forgot. Now I suppose I'll have to make this hole twice as big."

"That's alright," Skyfire demurred. "I'll just watch you from up here."

Starscream made no response.

Shovelful after shovelful of dirt flew out of the hole. It was a rich, orangey color, the hue indicative of high iron content. _Well, _Skyfire reflected,_ this will certainly make it easier to sample the ash layers in the lower regolith._ He was slightly tempted to ask Starscream if he had found the B9 layer yet, but out of respect for his friend's grief he refrained.

Finally the dirt stopped coming. Skyfire looked down into the hole to check that a cave-in hadn't buried the Seeker. But Starscream seemed to be doing fine; he was now standing almost twenty feet below the surface, his blue optics barely visible in the darkness.

"Are you done?" Skyfire asked.

"It's good enough for now," Starscream mumbled, sitting down. He dropped his head upon his grimy blue arms and groaned. Skyfire searched for words of comfort.

"It'll be alright. Things will get better."

"Yeah right."

Skyfire was trying to think of how best to respond when he heard the crunch of heavy feet upon dry ground. He looked up to see Powerglide striding briskly towards him.

"Hey, Skyfire! What's going on?" the red jet said by way of greeting. "Optimus says the challenge tomorrow is off! Is that true?"

"Uh, Powerglide, this isn't a good time," Skyfire warned, silently making shooing motions.

"What's all this dirt for? Taking more soil samples?" Powerglide asked, completely oblivious. "Where's Starscream?"

"I'm down here," Starscream's voice drifted up from the hole. Powerglide stepped over to the lip of the hole and stared down incredulously.

"What are you doing down there?"

"Burying treasure. Now leave me alone."

"Hey, just 'cause you forfeited to ol' Powerglidedoesn't mean you have to get all nasty," Powerglide clucked. "...Not that I blame you for quitting, having to go up against the ace of the air."

"Spare me your sympathy," Starscream snapped. "I didn't give up because of you."

"Then why did you give up?"

"Because Ms. Buckrinia will never love me!"

Skyfire shot a sympathetic look down the hole.

"Oh. That's tough," Powerglide said. "Yep, I remember when Astoria had been captured by the Decepticons, and I single-handedly took down the Decepticon skyplatform and crashed it into their HQ. Of course Astoria can't resist me now. But don't worry, I understand completely how much it must have hurt to lose Ms. Buckrinia."

Skyfire winced, expecting a wail of anguished outrage from the hole. It never came. Instead, silence as thick and inscrutable as a bank of fog drifted over them.

At last Powerglide stood up awkwardly.

"Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I guess I'll just tell the Aerialbots you won't be there tomorrow."

"The contest is still on!"

Skyfire froze.

Powerglide halted in the act of turning away. He turned back around and knelt at the edge of the hole, optics gleaming.

"What's that you say?" he asked. "You say you wanna take on ol' Powerglide, the ace of aerospace, the Red Baron of Cybertron?"

"Yes! And win!" Starscream exclaimed. "If Astoria can stand you, then there's hope for anyone!"

Skyfire groaned silently. Time to saddle up and climb back onto the mad merry-go-round of love. He felt dizzy already.

"Heeey! What's that supposed to mean?" Powerglide demanded. Starscream fumbled about in an attempt to extract his foot from his mouth. When the Seeker finally lapsed into embarrassed silence, Skyfire spoke up,

"Perhaps Starscream was referring to the fact that a human might be reluctant to accept romantic overtures from a robot."

"Yes! That's it!" Starscream cried gratefully.

Powerglide shot a skeptical look at Skyfire, but let it slide.

"Well, if you're up to the challenge, then I'll see you first thing in the morning tomorrow. Now if you'll pardon me, I need to get a full overhaul. This ol' bod's gotta be in tip top condition for tomorrow!" With a laugh, Powerglide rose to his feet and strode off.

The hole was silent.

"You're welcome," Skyfire drawled.

"Thanks," Starscream responded absently. "Skyfire, do you remember the rules for this contest?"

"I don't think there's a time limit this time, if that's what you're wondering," Skyfire answered, suddenly feeling tired. Peace and quiet. How nice that would be.

"No...I was just wondering where the boundaries of the skydome were."

"I think Optimus said that the combat area would be everything within a ten mile radius of the base."

"Small," Starscream remarked distastefully. "So much for the advantage of speed." Skyfire nodded. "Well, we can't let that stop us. I suppose the rest of the rules are going to be the same as for the real thing with Skywarp? One on one—or shall I say seven on one—alone and unaided, etc, etc?"

"That's what I got," Skyfire said. "Which you would know if you had paid more attention during the briefing."

"I was working on something more important—my poem," Starscream explained. "Now, as I recall, 'alone and unaided' wouldn't include picking up a rock off the ground and throwing it at your opponent, would it?"

"I suppose not," Skyfire agreed, wondering where Starscream was going.

"Well suppose—just theoretically—that picking up the rock triggered an avalanche that buried your opponent? That would still be 'alone and unaided,' wouldn't it?"

"I don't like where you're going with this."

"Well, would it or wouldn't it?" Starscream demanded.

"Yes," Skyfire agreed reluctantly, "_If_ triggering the avalanche was really an accident."

"What's the difference?"

"One would be an accident, the other would be a booby trap. And a booby trap would count as aid from an outside source."

"No it wouldn't," Starscream argued. "It would be using a preexisting terrain feature to your advantage. My opponents would have equal access to it."

"Except that they wouldn't know about it in advance."

"Well, what if they knew about a secret box canyon that I didn't know about and they lured me into it? Wouldn't that be the same thing, since I wouldn't know about the canyon in advance?"

"Yes, but the box canyon is natural, whereas your avalanche is artificial. The box canyon is simply taking advantage of the terrain, while the avalanche would be deliberately setting up the battlefield to provide you with outside aid."

"Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer?" Starscream complained. A wry smile twisted Skyfire's lips.

"Maybe I'll go to law school after the war."

Starscream chuckled, his earlier gloom plainly dissipated.

"Alright, perhaps you and I interpret the rules of engagement somewhat differently. But would you perhaps be able to find it in yourself to look elsewhere while I scout out the battlefield for 'natural' terrain features I could take advantage of?"

"Absolutely not," Skyfire said flatly.

"But Skyfire—" Starscream protested.

"No."

"But—"

"No."

A gusty sigh drifted up out of the hole...followed by a mournful sound. Skyfire looked down suspiciously, but could get no glimpse of Starscream's features.

"Well, since I'm obviously doomed tomorrow, I might as well keep digging."

"If you're trying to dig a pit trap, be forewarned that I intend to tell the Aerialbots."

"The only thing I'm going to do with this hole is bury myself in it—forever," Starscream sobbed. Then his voice took on an angry note. "Thanks to you and your silly scruples, I'll never be able to marry the love of my life. Now if you'll excuse me,_ friend, _I'd like to get on with my misery." A shovelful of dirt flew out of the hole and sprayed Skyfire in the face. Jerking backwards to avoid the next scoop, Skyfire glared down the hole. _He can't help it._ _ He's not in his right mind. _

Skyfire felt an overwhelming urge to drag Starscream out of the hole and shake him until he came back to his senses.

But after a moment he relented; it wasn't fair to expect common sense from a malfunctioning person. The important thing now was to keep Starscream from hurting himself or anyone else, not to penalize him for something he had no control over. What his friend needed was not a rebuke, but the support and understanding of a patient, compassionate friend. And Skyfire was determined to be that friend.

Squaring his shoulders, Skyfire sat down beside the lip of the hole and continued his vigil. From below he could hear Starscream mumbling angrily. He thought he discerned the words "cheat" and "rotten." Skyfire just shook his head, refusing to be offended.

How long it would be, he wondered, before Starscream gave up on his plan to spend the rest of his days in a hole? _Probably fifteen minutes,_ he guessed. Brokenhearted or not, Starscream was too mentally and physically active to sit and do nothing for long. Skyfire decided that when Starscream lost the contest tomorrow he would gently steer his friend to the command center and find him something challenging to work on. A good problem would take the edge off of his misery more effectively than sitting in a hole.

"Alright, I'm done," Starscream's muffled voice broke into his thoughts. Skyfire looked down. He couldn't even see the glow of Starscream's optics anymore.

"Where are you?" he called downwards.

"I'm underneath a ledge. It's designed to shield me the sight of anything that could remind me of Ms. Buckrinia."

"A nice feature," Skyfire commented politely, raising the robotic equivalent of eyebrows.

"It is, isn't it?"

"What now?"

"Now I shall sit here for the rest of my life."

"Ah...well, let me know when you want a break."

"I won't need one. I just want peace and quiet. And _no_ interruptions. From you or anyone."

Rather hurt by the last remark, Skyfire nevertheless acquiesed. Throwing up his hands in a little gesture of resignation, he reclined on the pile of dirt and pulled out a datapad.

Fifteen minutes crept by in silence. Then thirty minutes, and to Skyfire's mounting surprise, a whole hour. At last worry replaced incredulity, and he stepped over to the hole and called,

"Starscream?"

There was no response.

"Starscream!" he tried again, louder. Nothing. Suddenly a wave of fear crashed over him. What if Starscream had...? Without hesitation he threw himself down into the hole. The walls tore at his wings, but he squirmed deeper and deeper into the darkness, until at last his feet planted solidly in the dirt. "Starscream!" he shouted, feeling around desperately for a wing, a foot, anything...! He felt nothing but dirt, dirt, and more dirt. He dug and dug, turning up earth until he stood knee deep in it.

Finally he gave a wretched cry of disbelief. The conclusion was inescapable. Incredible though it seemed, Starscream was gone—vanished into solid dirt!

* * *

Starscream giggled as he punched up through the hard-packed desert surface. There was a note of hysteria in the laughter, but it was laughter nonetheless. In terrified haste he dragged himself out of the hole.

Once free he shook the dirt out of his intakes and looked around. Behind him the dark sillouette of the volcano blotted out a patch of stars. Gold light from the entry corridor blazed forth at the base, but there was no one in sight, no sign of an alarm. Reassured, he leapt into the air and headed for the hills beyond the desert. Silvery scrub flashed by beneath him as he floated silently over the ground.

_I wonder how long it'll take them to figure out how I got away?_ His jet mode hid a satisfied smirk. The idea had come to him in a flash of inspiration: instead of shoveling the dirt out of the hole, he would throw it behind him. He had dug horizontally, packing the debris up against the rear wall and sealing himself inside his own tunnel with backfill. From there it had been easy; he just kept digging and shoveling the tailings behind him until he left Skyfire and the volcano behind. It had been almost perfect...save for the fact that he couldn't get the backfill to compact as tightly as it had been before he dug it up. It had begun to use up more and more space, and his tiny bubble of air had shrunk, the walls literally closing in around him. The last twenty meters as he angled towards the surface had been the worst. To quell his rising panic, he had taken out the picture of Ms. Buckrinia and addressed his poem to her. Even read in a choking cave with no exit, it sounded awful.

Starscream snorted as he angled into the foothills. Poetry! What nonsensical rubbish! _Anyway, I won't need it,_ he decided. _Ms. Buckrinia is a woman of action—she wants deeds, not words. And I'll give her deeds. Better ones than Powerglide's. _A stab of envy ran through him at the thought.

But what could he do? If he was going to outdo the red Commie jet, he would not only have to defeat Megatron, but also strike a blow at the whole Decepticon faction. And Megatron didn't seem likely to accommodate him by building another floating sky platform. Starscream puzzled over the matter until he reached the dry canyon.

He had discovered the old gully while training Swoop. The gorge offered just enough of a challenge to keep the nimble Dinobot on his toes, but Starscream had found that with practice he could complete the course too. For a flyer who had never been down it, however... Starscream smiled grimly. He doubted that anyone but Swoop would be able to pursue him to the end. But there was no sense taking chances, not when the canyon offered a dozen natural hazards that could be turned to his advantage. Like the human saying went, "All's fair in love and war."

He zigzagged down the channel until he came to the spot he remembered. In the crook of a bend, a pine tree overhung the canyon, the twisted trunk held in place by a few scraggly roots. He transformed and wrapped his arms around it, then pulled downwards until the roots came loose with an earthy rip. As the tree fell, he maneuvered it so that it would block the canyon.

He continued down the canyon and stopped when he came to an escarpment held in place by a megalithic boulder. He scratched away at the base and around the edges of the stone, then shoved at it until it came loose. As he had done with the tree, he pulled it downwards across the canyon, but instead of moving it all the way down, he left it precariously balanced. He returned to the cliffside and found a smaller boulder, and using all his strength, rolled it to the foot of the monolith. When he was satisfied with its position, he pushed the larger stone down on top of it. The small boulder shifted a bit under its new burden, but held.

After reassuring himself that neither stone was likely to move, he transformed and practiced swooping up and blasting out its smaller rock with a burst of laserfire. If all went well, he ought to be able to dart underneath the larger boulder as it fell, leaving nothing but a wall of stone for the flyer on his tail. He could only hope it would cripple the poor wretch severely enough that they would drop out of the fight.

Moving along the canyon, he set up three more traps. A muddy trickle dammed up by a few conveniently placed stones would become a blinding mudwash when he sprayed it backwards with his thrusters in passing. He turned a tangle of tree roots into a spiderweb. With an artist's care, he rearranged an innocent logjam into an obstacle course that even he found difficult to navigate. When he was finished, he tested it one last time. Five traps for seven flyers...if he was lucky. There was a slight possibility that Swoop would make it through, and Powerglide was experienced enough that he would likely balk at entering the gorge at all. But what if an Aerialbot or two managed to escape, or didn't go into the canyon? Starscream frowned as he stood at the lip of the gully. He might still triumph at 3-1 odds, but what was the point in taking chances? He thought back to his earlier plan to sabotage Powerglide. There was still time to put that idea into action. Perhaps if he hurried, there would even be time left to arrange a little something for the Decepticons. He transformed and glided silently out of the canyon, heading for the nearest pay phone.

* * *

"Is this Sam's Steel? Have you seen a giant silver, red and blue robot around?" Skyfire drummed his fingers on Teletraan-1's console. "No? Well, if you do see him, tell him that we're not angry and we want him back. No questions asked, no punishment. Then call the Autobot Hotline. No time to explain. Bye." He depressed the cutoff button and turned back to the phone book. Samurai Metalworking, 1-842-345-7009. He dialed. As he listened to the phone ring, a pungent whiff of fumes reached his olfactory sensors. No time to investigate.

"Hello, Samurai Metalworking? Have you seen a giant silver, red and blue robot around?"

"Like me?"

Skyfire whipped around. Starscream stood in the doorway, hands on his hips and a big grin on his face. Skyfire lunged. The Seeker's grin turned to a screech as Skyfire smashed him to the floor and pinned him.

"You are in deep, deep trouble," Skyfire ground out.

"Remember you're not angry!" Starscream cried. "No punishment! I'm sorry!"

"And I forgive you." He got a firm grip on Starscream's arms and yanked him to his feet.

"Don't lock me up! I-I'll never escape again! I promise! I promise!"

"No, you won't," Skyfire said. "Because I'm going to see that you are shut down until the VEX scan gets back. You're very sick, Starscream. You may not see it, but I do." Turning to Teletraan-1, he said, "Tell the others to call off the search. And have Optimus and Ratchet meet me in the brig."

"Affirmative," the computer responded.

"Don't put me behind bars," Starscream pleaded, squirming in his grip. "I'm fine, really! I just needed to get some air. Then I came right back and repainted myself to look nice for Ms. Buckrinia!" That explained the smell of fumes all over him...or was that all? A chill ran through Skyfire involuntarily as he whiffed a tantalizingly familiar odor. What had Starscream been up to?

"Of course you were," Skyfire said, trying to mask his suspicions under a soothing tone. "I understand."

"Stop patronizing me!" Starscream snapped. "I'm not crazy!"

"Okay, then what's wrong with you?" Skyfire demanded. "I've known you for nine million years, and you've _never_ acted like this before."

"Don't you get it yet?" Starscream shouted. "I have to make Ms. Buckrinia mine! Whatever it takes! Can't you get it through your burnt out circuits?"

"'Whatever it takes,' huh? Like cheat your friends? Lie to me? Hit Optimus? Throw yourself into a slag pit?" Skyfire pushed Starscream into the elevator and mashed the down button with an elbow. "I believe you, Starscream. I really do think you would do anything for Ms. Buckrinia. I just don't want to find out what 'whatever it takes' is."

"But I haven't done anything wrong! I was just getting ready for the contest tomorrow."

"So, you were rigging it. Because you knew you couldn't win on skill alone. Because you know you're psychologically unfit for battle."

"No! I was training! I wanted to get some private practice in." Starscream's heel thrusters scraped on the deckplates as Skyfire forced him out of the elevator and onto the security level. Ruthlessly Skyfire piloted the Seeker towards an empty cell and began to shove him inside. Starscream's hands seized hold of the doorframe and clung there.

"Get in," Skyfire ordered.

"No!"

Skyfire brought his weight to bear and gave a mighty heave. Together they crashed forward into the cell. Skyfire lunged to his feet and rushed for the exit, but before he could make it Starscream seized his ankle. He flailed his leg savagely, trying to break the other's grip.

"Get! Off!" he growled.

"If you want me locked up you'll have to lock up yourself up too!" Starscream wrapped his arms around his leg in a bear hug.

"Fine!" Skyfire stepped back into the cell and transmitted the locking code. Sparking yellow bars of energy materialized over the exit. "There! Now we're both happy."

There was a hiss as unseen doors slid open.

"...Skyfire?" Ratchet's voice echoed through the detention center.

"Down here," Skyfire called, waving a hand out through the bars. A moment later Ratchet and Optimus came into view. The duo looked down at Starscream—still wrapped around his leg—then back up to him.

"Back in the brig again, eh Starscream?" Ratchet observed.

"Care to explain?" Optimus said, folding his arms.

"Skyfire's gone crazy!" Starscream cried. "He was going to blow up the ship and kill everyone! I managed to trap him in here. Get me out before he murders me!"

"He came back and I detained him for his own safety," Skyfire said evenly. "He resisted."

"He's lying!" Starscream exclaimed. "Don't believe a word! He's a psychopath!"

Ratchet and Optimus exchanged a glance.

"Good work, Skyfire," Optimus said. "Is he alright?"

"He seems to be," Skyfire replied, looking down and examining Starscream for damage. Finding none, he shook his leg. "You can let go of me now. No one is fooled by your lie."

Starscream released him. The Seeker stood up and moved to the front of the cell.

Skyfire took hold of Starscream's arm and met Ratchet's gaze. "If I hold him, can you come inside and deactivate him?"

A wild expression came over Starscream's face and he tried to take a step backwards, his body tensing.

"Is it really necessary to deactivate him?" Ratchet asked. Skyfire's brow furrowed.

"Do you want him to escape again?"

"No...I just don't see that it's necessary to shut him down completely. Why not just equip him with a tracker so that we can follow him if he tries to escape?"

"Perfect!" Starscream exclaimed. "Let's do that."

Skyfire shook his head. "It's too dangerous. There's a risk—"

"What risk?" Starscream demanded. "Anywhere I go you'd be able to find me."

Skyfire ignored him. "He might find a way to deactivate it. It's safer just to shut him down until the scan results come back. There's no sense in taking chances."

"I'm sure Ratchet is smart enough to devise a foolproof device." Starscream jerked his arm free.

"Hush, you," Ratchet said. He turned to Optimus. "Well?" The Autobot leader was simply staring at Starscream, lost in thought.

"I won't run away again, I promise," Starscream wheedled. "Give me another chance, Optimus! I won't disappoint you."

To Skyfire's disbelief, Optimus' face began to soften.

"Please, for his sake, don't," Skyfire said earnestly. "I'm more certain than ever that something is wrong with him."

"Do you think he's a danger to himself?" the Autobot leader asked.

Skyfire nodded with conviction.

"Nonsense!" Starscream scoffed.

"Ratchet?" Optimus said, ignoring Starscream. Ratchet paused for a moment. At last he responded grudgingly,

"Deactivating a patient is always the last resort. He hasn't hurt himself yet, even though Ms. Buckrinia tried to shoot him. I think it'll be safe enough with the tracking device."

"At last! A sane person," Starscream said.

"But Ratchet, you're the one who wanted to disable him in the first place," Skyfire protested.

"Yeah. I'm also an idiot who swore a very stupid oath," Ratchet said.

Skyfire stared incomprehendingly from Ratchet to Optimus. How could they not see it? How could they be so naive as to underestimate Starscream again? He stepped up to the bars as close as he dared and fixed Optimus with his most worried look.

"Optimus, listen to me. I'm positive—" But Optimus shook his head.

"The VEX scan could come back any day now. As long as there's another option to deactivation, I can't deny him his freedom."

Only habitual respect kept Skyfire from making a very insubordinate remark. He felt his hands crushing into helpless fists at his side. But Starscream's optics had brightened.

"Thank you Optimus! You won't regret this."

"I hope not," Optimus murmured. He entered a code into the cell's keypad. The bars flickered more intensely for a moment, then disappeared.

"I'll get the tracking device ready," Ratchet said unenthusiastically. He strode towards the elevator.

"Just make sure it won't interfere with my flying," Starscream called after him. "I have to fight the Aerialbots in less than an hour." There was a swishing noise as the elevator doors slid shut. Optimus looked at Starscream, an uncharacteristically doubtful expression in his optics. "You've made a wise choice, Optimus," Starscream said. "This is the best decision you've ever made."

_More like the worst,_ Skyfire thought.

Optimus said nothing. He turned and headed for the elevator. Starscream watched Optimus' retreating back with a malicious smirk that slowly metamorphosed into a thoughtful expression. Skyfire's jaw tightened. He knew exactly what Starscream was thinking. There was obviously no relying on Ratchet's tracking device; Starscream might or might not come up with a way to circumvent it, but if he did...

_No, _Skyfire thought. He was _not_ going to call up potential suicide venues again to see if his best friend had killed himself. This nonsensical farce was over. He was going to do what was best for his friend, even if no one else would.

Deliberately he let his shoulders sag in defeat.

"Well, I suppose you win this round," he said stiffly. "What do you want to do now?"

"Get repainted," Starscream snapped. "You've scuffed up my new paint job. I had it all perfect for the cam—fight."

"What?" Skyfire demanded.

"Huh?" Starscream asked, optics wide. "Well, if you want to be useful you can help me find some paint stripper. I just used up the last drop."

Starscream wheeled on his heel and strode out of the detention center. Skyfire followed him. His path was clear now, and he felt himself growing calm despite the storm brewing on the horizon. He rested his gaze on Starscream's back and let his thoughts revolve upon the problem of the perfect crime.

Perhaps the Seeker sensed the lizard-calm optics watching him, for he gave a small shudder.

* * *

Skywarp groaned and leaned against Thundercracker for support as he limped his way down the corridor to the elevator. Every strut, every spar ached down to the last support rib. And now it was time for even _more_ training.

"This schedule is killing me," he moaned. "What can I possibly learn in three days that I couldn't in the last nine million years?"

"Eh, flying on Earth's not the same as on Cybertron," Thundercracker said, giving a shrug that jostled him. "Starscream's got lots of experience in this atmosphere—he did find the dirtball after all. The practice'll do you good."

"Yeah, well he can't possibly be training as hard as I am."

There was the ring of feminine laughter down the corridor. Skywarp straightened up and transformed his limp into a confident swagger. A second later the luscious pink and yellow figures of Disharmony and Discord rounded the corner.

"Wow, look at all those curves. And me with no brakes," Skywarp said pleasantly.

Disharmony gave a pained smile. Discord scowled.

"So, how 'bout dinner tonight?" Skywarp asked. He flashed his most charming smile at Disharmony.

"I have to grease my bearings," she said.

"I'm on duty," Discord said.

"I can change that," Skywarp said eagerly. "1400 hours my quarters then?"

"Sorry, I need to sand out some scratches when I get off."

"I could do that for you!" he cried.

"Not a chance," she snapped.

"Uh wait, come to think of it, I wouldn't be available anyway," Skywarp said quickly. "You see, I've decided to take on a very dangerous mission. I may not be alive by then."

"Really? How exciting," Discord said with optics that were just a little too wide. "What is it?"

"I'm going to spy on the Autobot base," Skywarp said. "See what Starscream is up to. Maybe scope the place out and grab some intel while I'm at it. Right TC?"

Looking trapped, Thundercracker just nodded.

"It was supposed to be classified," Skywarp continued smoothly. "But I'm sure I can trust you two...can't I?"

"Of course," Discord replied coolly. "Come along, Disharmony. I'll sand those scratches out for you."

Skywarp watched the two femmes until they rounded the corner and passed out of sight. "Femmes," he grumbled. "I remember when being Air Commander got you a _lot _more respect."

Thundercracker just snorted. "Tell me you're not serious about this mission you just cooked up?"

"Pff, what mission? I'm gonna go hang out somewhere and play hooky until the cracks in my spars mend. Wanna come along?"

Thundercracker shrugged. "I could stand some downtime."

They headed toward the elevator and Skywarp punched the up button. Suddenly a voice from somewhere below spoke,

"Hey, where you goin'?"

Skywarp jumped. He looked down. Rumble was standing at his feet.

"We're gonna spy on the Autobots," Skywarp said, recovering himself. "Just be gone a couple of hours."

"Can I come along?" Rumble asked eagerly.

"Well, I dunno..." Skywarp said, hunting for an excuse. "We might have to beat a hasty retreat, and you're not exactly built for speed..."

"I can ride in your cockpit," Rumble answered. "No problemo."

"But what would Soundwave say?" Skywarp protested. "I can't just drag you halfway around the world without his permission." A lie, but hopefully Rumble would buy it.

The cassette paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then he grinned and looked up.

"He says it's fine."

Skywarp silently cursed the telepath, then half-expected to hear a voice in his head saying, "I heard that." But nothing came.

"Well, okay then," he said, making an effort to keep the irritation out of his voice. "Let's go."

"Sweet! You and me on a spy mission! This is gonna be awesome," Rumble said. He zipped into the elevator. Skywarp shot a look at Thundercracker, but the other just grinned back. _Thanks for the sympathy,_ Skywarp thought. He trudged into the elevator. _Oh well, a break's a break. _And who knew? Maybe it _would_ impress the femmes. A smile passed over his lips at the thought.

* * *

Ten minutes remained till the match, and the strategy session was going nowhere. Powerglide glared down the conference table at Slingshot. The harrier was pounding the table so hard that it sent ripples through the seven pink energon cubes sitting in front of them.

"I'm the most maneuverable, so I'll corner him and—"

"Swoop is more maneuverable," the pterodactyl interrupted.

"Yeah, and besides, Slingshot's the slowest," Powerglide added. "_I've_ the speed and the power it takes to—"

"Big deal! Starscream knows all your moves!" Slingshot hollered.

"And he taught you all of yours!" Powerglide yelled.

"Okay, let's all calm down," Silverbolt said. He held his hands up for silence. "Now, Skydive, you had something to say?"

Skydive was sitting calmly back in his chair, swirling an energon cube around contemplatively.

"I hope this isn't poisoned."

Dead silence fell over the table. Powerglide's optics dropped to his own half-finished cube. Suddenly it felt as if his fuel tanks were filled with low-grade diesel.

"Are you serious?" Slingshot choked.

Skydive nodded. "He had ample opportunity last night while we were gone searching for him. And Skyfire did find him in the base. He certainly had access to our rations. Although I think it more likely he would have doctored the additives than the energon itself."

Powerglide grabbed his cube and held it up to the light, probing the liquid for any off-color tint. There seemed to be nothing, but it could be subtle.

"What if he put something in our oil too?" Fireflight wondered. "I refilled this morning."

"Or suppose he uploaded a viral program into the base computer," Silverbolt added. "Just enough to throw our performance off, say. He could upload a countervirus later and no one would be the wiser."

"He would do that," Air Raid growled. "I know he'd do anything for that dumb ol' lady. Even sabotage us!"

"Swoop used Teletraan-1 last night," the pterodactyl said timidly. "Me going to crash?"

The door to the conference room wooshed open and Bumblebee leapt inside.

"Who called the press?"

They all stared blankly at the small yellow bot.

"The press?" Powerglide echoed.

"Channels 1 through 14 are here to film the contest!"

"What?" Air Raid said, gaping.

"They don't know about Starscream do they?" Silverbolt asked in alarm.

"It wasn't any of you then?" Bumblebee demanded. They all shook their heads. "Scraps!" Bumblebee wheeled and raced back out the door.

Powerglide glanced around at the others, who stared back just as cluelessly.

"I'm gonna go see what's going on," he announced.

He got up and pounded down the corridor after Bumblebee. Skidding around a turn, he caught a flash of something silver and a pair of surprised blue optics and then he barralled headlong into Starscream. The other shrieked, there was a splash, and then Powerglide crashed to the deck. There was an overpowering odor of paint stripper.

For a moment he lay there, stunned. He noticed his fuselage was burning slightly where it was wet, and looked to find his paint dissolving away in bubbly streaks. Starscream was already being helped to his feet by Skyfire. Colors were streaking down the Seeker's chest and bleeding together into a ghastly grey-purple puddle at his feet.

"Oh no," Powerglide groaned. "Not now!"

"Lovely," Starscream grimaced. "I'm sure Ms. Buckrinia will adore me in Decepticon purple."

"What were you doing carrying a full can of paint stripper without a lid?" Powerglide demanded. "Now I look lousy and there are television cameras outside!"

"I didn't expect to be stampeded in the hallway," Starscream retorted.

A thought suddenly occurred to Powerglide. "Wait, were you the one who called the press?"

Starscream jerked his head in a nod and grinned. "If Ms. Buckrinia won't come to see me, then I'll bring myself to her—on TV! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to look stunning for the cameras." He rushed away, leaving a trail of muddy purple droplets behind him. Powerglide rose to his feet and looked down at himself. Gloopy drips of red paint were trailing down his torso.

"I look a chainsaw murder victim," he muttered. He followed Starscream's trail. There were still ten minutes left—just enough time to repair the mess and look his best for the millions of viewers who were breathlessly waiting to see the Red Baron of Cybertron fly.

* * *

The three Decepticons weren't supposed to be able to infiltrate the Autobot base, but Skywarp had managed to teleport them into a camogram-concealed niche at the volcano's summit. Laserbeak had discovered the place during his surveillance activities, and had improved it for long term spying.

"Huh," Skywarp observed, peeping over the crags of basalt at the milling cameramen below. "Looks like they're going to have a press conference. Well, we'll just hang out here in case something important happens."

"Okay," Rumble said. "I'll keep watch."

"Good idea," Skywarp said. "I'll be over there." He sprawled himself against the sidewall of the niche, crossed his legs, and threw an arm over his optics. He heard some clunking noises as Thundercracker settled himself nearby.

The black Seeker gave a deep, cleansing sigh of contentment and let his mind drift leisurely back to headquarters (where Disharmony was probably getting the scratches sanded out of her gorgeous wings), then to the production figures Shockwave had sent him (he really had to see him about getting the Air Command's titanium allocation increased), and finally to the question of how he was going to explain his excursion to Megatron. He could already see the exasperated, vaguely disbelieving look the other would give him when he heard that Skywarp had done it to impress the femmes. Skywarp made a cheeky face. The allocation of cute, single secretaries to the Air Command had been one of his long-standing priorities, but Megatron had always blocked it, explaining irritably that it would "distract him." Bunk. An what business was it of his, anyway?

"Hey, something's happening," Rumble said.

"Yeah?" Skywarp said, not removing his arm from his optics.

"A bunch of Autobots just came out of the base. Starscream's with them."

At that Skywarp sighed in irritation and crawled over to Rumble. He stopped just short of poking his head out of the camogram, making sure to keep a thin veil of photons between himself and the Autobots. The view below was blurred by the holo and wavered in the heat, but he could still make out Starscream and what appeared to be the entire population of the Autobot base. A circle of cameras, microphones, and satellite dish-studded newsvans surrounded the gathering. Starscream was gesticulating at his group of flyers—apparently a warm-up briefing of some sort.

"What do you suppose is goin' on?" Rumble asked.

"Beats me," Skywarp said. "Probably some dedication or something. Autobots love making speeches. Keep me appraised." He crawled back to his place and lay back down.

"Starscream's saying something to the press," Rumble reported. "Now him and all the other jets are saluting each other."

"Wow. Wonder why."

"They're taking off. H-hey, they're shooting at each other! I mean, they're shooting at Starscream!"

Skywarp jolted to his knees and clambered back to his vantage point, clashing wings with Thundercracker in his haste. Sure enough, he could see a boil of flyers swirling in the distance, growing smaller and smaller as the battle drifted away towards the hills. He magnified. Starscream was being chased by a pack of Aerialbots, a Dinobot, and a red jet. The Autobot Air Commander performed frantic evasive maneuvers as chains of laserbolts pelted past him from no less than seven opponents.

Thundercracker gave a grunt of appreciation. Rumble's optics were wide.

"Okay, maybe he _does_ train harder than me," Skywarp said grudgingly.

A missile streaked out from one of the Aerialbots towards the silver flyer, and Starscream banked and dove, the missile following him as if connected by an invisible line. The rest of the flyers swooped down after him, and together they all disappeared into a valley...almost. The red flyer—Powerglide, that was it—popped up and circled around, then made a beeline for a place only he could see.

An instant later Starscream resurfaced—alone. The missile and all the flyers were gone. Rumble's mouth fell open.

"Did he—did he just—"

"Uh..." Skywarp tried to think of an answer, some way that Starscream hadn't just taken down six flyers singlehandedly, but no explanation came. He glanced at Thundercracker, beseeching an explanation.

"Null ray?" Thundercracker offered. "Every hit is a potential takedown."

"Cheap trick," Skywarp muttered, but a feeling of unease had begun to congeal inside of him. He could absorb an ordinary laser hit on his armor, but what good was that against Starscream's null ray? One lucky shot and he would be out for the count.

Powerglide and Starscream lunged for each other and bright streams of laserfire cut through the air. The two opponents wheeled and twisted, each trying in vain to bring the other into his sights. Powerglide made a painfully sharp turn and snapped off a quick shot that caught Starscream's wingtip as he veered out of the way. The Seeker's flight stuttered momentarily, and Skywarp could see that the hit must have taken out his outboard flap. Powerglide executed another cable-straining turn and sought to press the advantage home. But he was too late; Starscream had poured on all of his notorious speed and was hurtling away. A smug expression passed across Skywarp's face. All the speed in the world was nothing compared to instantaneous teleportation.

Powerglide angled after Starscream and fired a quick burst of shots, but they went wide. At last Starscream moved out of range, and Powerglide curved off on a different vector, trying to intercept him. Skywarp kept his optics on Starscream, not wanting to lose track of him. Rumble's next words came as a surprise.

"Hey, what's happening to the red guy—er, I mean the guy who used to be red..."

Skywarp broke his gaze from Starscream and sought the speck that was Powerglide. A moment later he pinpointed it, magnified. And released an incredulous cackle.

"He's turning _pink!_" Even as he watched, Powerglide's paint was becoming lighter and lighter, bleaching out until he was the approximate shade of a weathered lawn flamingo.

Then it came, over every frequency and on every channel: a howl of horror so chilling, so poignantly betrayed that it might have been the cry of a forsaken warrior left to die on the battlefield. Skywarp felt a shiver of delight run through him. He hadn't heard a noise like that since he had slipped a hand-knitted Mr. Meowy kitty sweater on Ravage during after-mission repairs.

Powerglide lunged for the nearest valley and disappeared from sight. He did not come back up. Starscream banked leisurely around and cruised back towards the volcano. He transformed and landed in the circle of press vans. A moment later Skywarp heard the Air Commander's voice ring out over the Autobot frequency,

"Does anyone have further opposition to offer me?" Silence. "Then I declare myself the victor!" Starscream beamed at the cameras. "...And, if you're watching, Ms. Buckrinia, I'm sorry and I _love you!_"

Skywarp felt his jaw fall open. He reached up and tapped his audios.

"What did he just say there?"

"I thought he said 'I love you'," Rumble said uncertainly.

"You're the most beautiful, wonderful femme—uh, woman—ever, and if I can do anything for you, anything at all—" Starscream babbled, apparently having forgotten that he had left his comm on. "Hey, leggo—ack-" The transmission cut off as Optimus practically pushed Starscream back into the base entrance. The reporters rushed in with microphones held high, but the Autobots closed ranks around the entrance. Optimus Prime held up his hands and attempted to restore order as the humans swarmed around him.

Skywarp looked at Thundercracker and a grin slowly spread across his face.

"Well, well, well."

"Did he say a _woman?_" Thundercracker said, frowning.

"Must be a _human_ woman," Skywarp said, leaning back and folding his arms. "Aww, isn't that sweet."

"You mean gross," Rumble exclaimed. "Imagine locking lip components with a human!"

"I bet she has to use a stepladder," Skywarp said, then cackled. "Ooh, this is too good!" Marvelous, awful ideas were blossoming in his head. "We have to use this somehow!"

"What now?" Thundercracker said, his face a mixture of dread and anticipation. Rumble leaned forward in anticipation.

Skywarp tried to assume a serious visage. He laid a hand on each of his companions' shoulders and looked each of them straight in the optics.

"My fellow Decepticons, true love crosses even faction boundaries. Though Starscream is my mortal enemy, I feel it is my duty to help him find conjugal bliss with the lovely femme who has so captivated him." Thundercracker just stared at him as if to say, "Excuse me but WHAT?" Rumble snickered. "I vow," Skywarp continued solemnly, "to do everything in my power to unite these two lovers in eternal, everlasting bliss."

Now Rumble exchanged an uncertain glance with Thundercracker, who rubbed his grimacing face. It was too much. Skywarp felt a mad cackle bubbling up inside of him, and then he collapsed, wracked with spasms of laughter. Starscream! In love! With a _flesh creature! _

* * *

"Cheater!" shouted Air Raid. "You set us up!"

"He rigged the battlefield!"

"He bribed Powerglide!"

"Prove it!" Starscream demanded. "Give me some evidence!"

"Alright everyone, stand down," Optimus said, his voice carrying without seeming loud. A blanket of silence fell over the command center, muffling all but a few grumbles. Starscream crossed his arms and glared at the mass of accusing faces. Quickly he reviewed his precautions: no tracks, every accident potentially natural. They had _nothing_ on him.

"Starscream?" Optimus asked, turning to look at him. Starscream forced himself to meet his commander's gaze without reaction.

"Yes, I knew that canyon was dangerous. I hoped they would try to follow me, and they did. Is it cheating to take advantage of my foreknowledge of the terrain?" Involuntarily he darted a gaze at Skyfire, certain the other was going to bring up the "theoretical" discussion of ethics he had made the mistake of sharing. But Skyfire barely seemed interested at all. Starscream felt a stab of gratitude.

"And Powerglide?"

"I don't know," Starscream said, shrugging. "Must have been some rapid action bleaching. It's a hot one out there today."

"You did something to his paint!" Slingshot blurted.

"I used the same paint myself," Starscream said scornfully, thumbing his chest. "Skyfire can vouch for that." He glanced hopefully back at Skyfire, who just nodded. Slingshot hesitated, then continued,

"Well...maybe you bribed him to cut out!"

Starscream barked a laugh. "Do you really think Powerglide would accept a bribe to_ lose _on national television?"

"Then you must have blackmailed him," the harrier insisted.

"And how, pray tell?" Starscream demanded, setting his hands on his hips. "What deep, dark little secret did I dredge up to bend him to my will?"

He fought the smirk that wanted to pry at his lips. A little bleaching agent, a catalyst, and the hot desert sun was all it took to superaccelerate the fading of red paint. To quiet Powerglide's suspicions—not that there had been any—he had made sure that they shared the same tainted can of red. But after Powerglide had left to court the press, he had coated his own paint with a jug of Sunstreaker's best Shade-In-Sun enamel, formulated with UV absorbers to keep colors magically vibrant and prevent unsightful fading and chalking. It had lived up to its copy.

"Yeah well, you must have done something," Slingshot said obstinately.

"Prove it!" he said, lifting his chin imperiously. "I won fair and square."

He was to repeat that refrain half a dozen times before Optimus Prime finally gave in and pronounced him the victor. Starscream did not gloat, but instead slunk away to his quarters amid a pelting hailstorm of scowls.

As soon as the door to his room slid shut, he leaned gratefully against the wall and gave a sigh of relief. The chair at his desk squeaked as Skyfire took a seat, and then all was blessedly silent. _I won,_ Starscream thought. _Everyone hates me now, but I won. _

He drew out Ms. Buckinia's picture and contemplated it for a moment. Every inch of her face was familiar to him, from the gracious crow's feet in the corners of her eyes to the hard set of her dainty lips. How could such strength coexist with such beauty? Starscream almost groaned with longing as he imagined her gentle voice soothing his tired soul, her hand resting upon his cheek... She was everything he had ever wanted—no, needed. Why did the whole world have to stand between them?

He made his way to his recharge slab and laid down with a sigh. Good luck getting anybody to understand that.

"Do you know what the problem with people these days is?" he complained. "They take everything so personally." Skyfire made no response. "I think it's the gambling," he continued. "It encourages bad sportsmanship."

"What did you do to Powerglide."

Starscream gave a little smile. "Let's just say the Pink Baron of Cybertron will be back once he's cleaned up a bit."

"So, you won by cheating. Proving nothing about whether or not you're ready to fight Skywarp."

"I didn't hear you complaining back there."

"What would be the point?" Skyfire said, looking up at him at last. "I was certain that you had left no proof."

"Quite right too," Starscream said.

Skyfire returned to the datapad he was writing in. For a long moment Starscream waited for him to say something, but nothing came. It struck him as odd somehow; it wasn't like Skyfire to clam up if something bothered him. Offhandedly he remarked,

"Oh, I see...You're still mad about me not getting deactivated."

"I am not angry. I am, however, concerned and upset."

"He's making I-statements. That definitely means he's ticked off." Starscream quirked a grin at his friend. "I can always tell when you're mad because you start sounding like a principal." Skyfire shrugged but otherwise gave no reaction. "Okay, I give. What's bothering you?"

"Oh, nothing. Just the fact that my best friend might throw himself into a slag pit on a mad whim."

Starscream made a dismissive noise. "That won't happen. I just said that so Optimus would let me fight Skywarp."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Why would I throw myself into a slag pit when everything is going so swell?" Starscream said cheerfully. "Today and tomorrow we'll make wedding arrangements. Then a short engagement battle with Skywarp. And after that..." _Megatron. _His optics burned at the thought, but deep down a chill ran through him. How effective would his null ray be against a mech that heavily armored? How long would the stun last? And could one shot from Megatron's infamous fusion canon really burn straight through a mech?

"She won't marry you," Skyfire said stubbornly, jolting him out of unpleasant thoughts.

"Right, sure, of course."

"Starscream—"

Starscream groaned inwardly, tired of the argument already. "Hey, I know," he interrupted. "Let's find Carly and go shopping."

He slid off the slab and made for the door. Let Skyfire try to wear him out with endless arguments. Let the others give him all the dirty looks they wanted. One sweet look from Ms. Buckrinia's melting sky-blue eyes would make it all worth it in the end.

* * *

Finding Carly was easy—she was napping in the Human Room, aka the former closet down the hall from the cafeteria. Starscream stuck his toe in and poked at her old green army cot, making it squeak back and forth on its wooden legs.

"Come on Carly, time to get up!"

Carly mumbled something incoherent in response.

"Don't give me that," he scolded. "We've only got three days left till my wedding."

"I won't marry you," Carly mumbled. "You're cute, but it would never work..."

Starscream froze, his optics swelling into mortified blue pools. He recoiled with a chuckle of horror.

"Ahhh—that's not what I meant. No, I meant my wedding with _Ms. Buckrinia_."

"I think she's dreaming, Starscream," Skyfire said, voice brimming with barely repressed amusement.

"Thank goodness," Starscream said. "Wake up this instant Carly! You've napped long enough." He knocked his foot against her cot.

"Aagh!" Carly sat bolt upright, her hair flying into her face. "Wha? Decepticons?"

"No, more important," Starscream said. "I need your help shopping for my wedding with Ms. Buckrinia."

Carly sagged in her sleeping bag.

"Oh," she said, staring blearily downwards. "Can't you wake a person up a little more gently?"

"I don't seem to be good at that," Starscream said, grimacing as he remembered his failed tryst with Ms. Buckrinia.

"Oh well, I'm actually kind of glad you came by. I was having the weirdest dream..." Carly shuddered.

"I know," Starscream said. "You were talking in your sleep."

Carly's face took on a rosy hue. She rubbed her face and groaned. "Ooookay. Let's never talk about this again."

Starscream gave a curt nod.

Like a grouchy butterfly exiting its chrysalis, Carly emerged from her sleeping bag. She sat down on the edge of her cot, stared for a moment, then swept a lock of hair behind her ear and straightened her rumpled M.I.T. Beavers t-shirt. "I have a lot of homework. Not to mention a physics exam."

"You can do that later," Starscream said, waving his hand in dismissal. "This is important."

"Don't listen to him," Skyfire warned. "I can personally vouch for the fact that he never did homework."

"I did sometimes. Besides, I always aced the quizzes, didn't I?"

Skyfire just made an exasperated noise.

"Anyway," Starscream continued, "True love is far more important than mere homework. Just tell your teachers that you were trying to save the world from the Decepticons and I'm sure they'll give you a few extra days."

"But I've already used that one," Carly protested. "Four times."

"Then it obviously works. So, I'll meet you at the front door." He marched off, leaving a befuddled Carly staring after him.

It was blistering hot outside. Starscream checked his paint for signs of fading and was pleased to find his colors as vibrant as ever. He turned to look at Skyfire.

"Alright," he said, "I think it's time we planned our attack. Today, we'll buy all the imperishables and you'll haul them back here. Tomorrow, everyone will have forgiven me for making them lose their money and I'll be able to draft them into setting up. The day after that, I fight Skywarp and win, greatly impressing Ms. Buckrinia of course. We'll buy the food and do all the cooking and Ms. Buckrinia will try on her dress and decide where we take our honeymoon. Speaking of which, I had better apply for some marriage leave. Do you think five months is enough?"

"Quite," Skyfire said inscrutably.

"Good. Then that's how much I'll ask for. Of course, it doesn't matter to you because you don't think she'll marry me. But go ahead, keep clinging to your delusions."

"I will."

Starscream continued, "So after my fight with Skywarp I should be repaired in time to have the wedding the next day. Which means that while I'm fighting him somebody needs to buy the flowers and bake the cake. Nothing will keep in this heat." Skyfire just nodded. "And, we need to set up the engagement ring. And I still need to research American marital ceremonies. Oh, and I need to decide how many creations we'll have."

"Creations!"

"Well she might want to adopt."

"Okay, I'm ready," came Carly's voice from behind. Starscream turned around. Carly had put on a jacket and was carrying the tiny datapad Wheeljack had shrunk for her. He acknowledged her with a nod.

"So where's the first place we need to go?"

"I did some quick research and the first place we're going to is Wedding Logistics. I've got their phone number right here."

Starscream was surprised; he never would have thought to hire a wedding company. _This might solve a lot of problems._ Carly typed into the datapad and there was a ringing noise. The sound terminated with the click of a phone picking up. A sugary voice purred,

"Wedding Logistics. I'm Paprika Apricot, how may I help you?"

"Hi," Carly said. "I'm Carly. I'm trying to arrange a wedding."

"Sure thing honey. That's what we're here for. What kind of wedding were you thinking of?"

"Well, we were kind of hoping you could give us some advice." Carly looked up at him, silently inviting him to join in. Starscream leaned down and spoke into the datapad.

"Anything is open at this point. ...Well, actually, there is one thing—the decorations can't have any red in them."

"Why not?" Paprika asked.

"Red is a Communistic color." The datapad fell silent. Finally the other returned,

"Oh, I don' know about that—In Japan the bride wears a red kimono to the reception to bring good luck. You interested in a Japanese wedding? Such a beautiful ceremony."

"No, I need an American one," Starscream explained. "My bride-to-be is American."

"Is that right? You sure you're not interested in a white kimono, Carly?" Paprika asked. Carly blushed furiously.

"I'm _not _his fiance," she declared. "I'm just helping arrange things."

"Oh, sorry!" Paprika exclaimed. "I thought you must be bride and groom. Silly ol' me. Okay then, that rules out a lot of possilities. You probably want a traditional white wedding then?"

Starscream nodded, only to realize that he wasn't talking into a two-way viewscreen. "Yes," he clarified.

"Okay!" Paprika said with slightly forced enthusiasm. "So how much were you looking at spending?"

"The sky's the limit," Starscream said with a smile. "I can even do outer space with a little effort."

"Well," Paprika breathed, her voice growing noticeably sweeter. "I think we can help. Why don't you come down to my office tomorrow sometime and we can talk in person? What time works best for you?"

"That's the thing," Carly said apologetically. "We're in kind of a rush here."

"We've got three days," Starscream said. Silence.

"Well, that's not much time. Ah...Can you come in today?"

"Sure. We can come in right now if you want."

"Alright, I think we can do this...hold on a minute..." For a moment there were "ums" and "hms" from the datapad, accompanied by the sound of shuffling papers. Then her voice came through the datapad again, "Okay, just ask for me at the front desk when you get here. What was your name again?"

"Starscream."

"...What a beautiful name. Is it...Indian?"

"No, Cybertronian. And thanks, I've always thought so." Starscream grinned. Carly just rolled her eyes.

"We'll be there in twenty minutes," she said.

* * *

Through a happy coincidence, Paprika' office window was nearly at Starscream's eye level. He peered inside, waiting for the wedding consultant to appear.

The sight of the interior decor encouraged him. Framed photographs depicted scenes of smiling couples in white dresses and black suits, bridesmaids with armfuls of flowers, and yes, even a bride dressed in a red kimono. Displayed prominently among the photographs was a document that declared "Paprika Apricot - Certified Wedding Technician."

The door to the office swung open, and Paprika entered with Carly in tow. The voice he had heard on the datapad turned out to belong to a tall, slender woman wearing a flowery pink blouse and white skirt. A cloud of golden hair twirled its way down her shoulders in tight curls that jounced as she walked. She noticed him staring in through the window and gave a dainty shriek.

"It's okay," Carly said quickly. "This is Starscream. And the guy peeking over his shoulder is Skyfire. Don't worry, they're the Autobots you were talking to."

Paprika stammered out a greeting and took a heavy seat at her desk. A porcelain paperweight in the form of a bride and groom exchanging rings gave a tinkle of music as she settled into the chair.

"I've never met an Autobot before," she said shakily. "You suprised me a bit there, deary."

"Sorry," Starscream said, giving his most friendly smile.

"We're harmless—really," Skyfire said.

"So, you're getting married, Starscream?" Paprika said, seeming to steady herself. "To another robot then? Or one of us?"

"One of you," Starscream answered, beaming. He took Ms. Buckrinia's picture from subspace and held it up to the window. "This is my future wife. Have you ever seen anyone more beautiful, ever?"

Paprika stared at the picture, seemingly overwhelmed by Ms. Buckrinia's radiance. Starscream proudly tucked the picture back into subspace.

"Now you see why money is no object. I want this wedding to be the most extraordinary experience of our lives."

"Okay..." Paprika said, taking a deep breath. "Alright. We can do extraordinary."

"Let's," Starscream said, rubbing his hands.

* * *

Over the course of the following day, van after van pulled up in front of the base. A deluge of supplies poured forth. First came the cards, a forest of invitations and thank you cards and place cards and commemorative napkins printed with the Autobot symbol. Next came ten boxes of long white candles in silver holders, two man-sized spools of ribbon, five hundred blue-tinted vases, and a thousand matching party favors that prompted Bumblebee to wonder just how many relatives Ms. Buckrinia had. Then came the dress-makers, the videographers, and the musicians. Starscream darted around the base, directing the flow of supplies like the commander of an invasion force securing a beachhead. Skyfire trailed after him, datapad in hand.

"Get those ribbons up, hurry hurry!" Starscream screeched. "I want this command center decorated by midnight and it had better glow. Did someone vacuum the stalactites? Tighten up those ribbons Brawn! Perceptor, those flower baskets should have been unpacked ten minutes ago. Grimlock, why are you standing around gawking? Start assembling the chandeliers! Hurry I say! We've only got two days left!"

"Hey Starscream, I need your signature on these cards," Sparkplug said, holding up a box of tiny invitations and a $200 commemorative pen (outsized thanks to Perceptor's microchip enlarger) to him. "And Ms. Buckrinia's signature."

For a moment Starscream hesitated. Ms. Buckrinia certainly wouldn't sign any invites until he had defeated Megatron, but the cards had to go out as soon as possible. _I'll just sign for __her_, he decided at last. _It won't matter. _Taking up the pen, he began to scribble "Starscream and Buckrinia" on each card. Sparkplug just shook his head.

"Can I borrow something from you?" Starscream asked, not looking up from his signing.

"You still haven't given me back my fifty."

Skyfire snapped his fingers with a crackle of electricity. With a flourish he pulled the bill out of subspace and handed it back to Sparkplug.

"Ah, thanks. So what do you need now?" Sparkplug asked, stuffing the bill in his pocket.

"It doesn't matter," Starscream said. "I just I need something 'borrowed' for the wedding. I've got something old, something new, and something blue. I need something borrowed."

Sparkplug laughed but pulled the wrench off his belt. "Don't lose this—it's my favorite."

Starscream reassured him that he wouldn't, and mentally checked an item of his to-do list. Now all he had to worry about was finding a sixpence for Ms. Buckrinia's shoe.

One thousand invitations later, his neat print had degenerated into a ragged scrawl. He laid the last card aside and passed the box down to Sparkplug. Perhaps the invitations wouldn't all be used, but better safe than sorry. Who knew how many guests might be coming?

"Hey, is there going to be a bachelor party?" Sparkplug asked.

"What's that?"

"A premarital rite," Skyfire explained unexpectedly. "The friends of the groom gather together and celebrate the final days of his free, unmarried life."

Starscream frowned, not sure what to make of that. It almost sounded like some kind of subtle slight on the femme, as if her absence were something to be savored.

"But I'm looking forward to getting married," he said at last.

"Oh, but suppose Ms. Buckrinia expects you have a bachelor party?" Skyfire pointed out.

"Mm...I suppose," Starscream said, unconvinced.

"Anyway, you'll enjoy yourself," Sparkplug said, slapping him on shin. "We'll play cards and I'll even give you a chance to win this fifty dollars off of me."

"But I'm bad at cards," Starscream protested. "And I don't have time to organize anything else. Believe me, I'm having enough trouble just with this wedding."

"Don't worry, there are plenty of human card games that don't involve holding a poker face," Skyfire reassured him. "And anyway, the groom isn't supposed to organize this particular party. The best man does that—meaning me. So, let's find Jazz and Blaster and they can take over for me while I set things up."

They wandered down to the cafeteria to look for the duo. Upon entering Starscream was greeted by the solemn but happy notes of "Here Comes The Bride." The music emanated from a shiny black piano played by Carly.

"That's beautiful," Starscream exclaimed as the final note died away. "That's what it'll sound like as we walk up the aisle? Just like that?"

"Well, there won't exactly be an aisle," Carly said with a grin, running her fingers through her hair. "But I guess the entrance hallway to the command center will work just as well, huh? Wow, I can't believe how different it looks in here!"

Starscream looked around the messhall turned reception hall with satisfaction. Cosmos had done well: an exuberant frenzy of white ribbons stretched from table to table in an exciting arrangement of bows and flourishes, all set aglow by the newly installed crystal chandeliers.

"Hmph. Looks like it was decorated by drunken spiders," Gears complained as he covered the tables with satin cloths.

"I didn't see you helping," Cosmos said mildly.

"Ignore him. It looks marvelous," Starscream said proudly. "Of course we still need floral arrangements, but that'll have to wait till—Oh, Elita! What do you think?"

Elita One was standing stunned in the doorway.

"Uhh... I'm speechless."

Had he had been human, Starscream would have flushed with pleasure. Then he caught sight of something and froze. He snatched a spool of ribbon lying on a table and tore off a piece so that he could tie an bow around a table leg that Cosmos had overlooked. Inspecting his work and finding it satisfactory, he turned to Elita and asked confidentially,

"Was your wedding this much work?"

"Yes," Elita said, smiling sympathetically. "But it was spread out over six months. ...And we didn't have ribbons."

"Everyone's a critic," grumbled Cosmos.

"Each table still needs a centerpiece, silverware and dishes, a favor at each place, and some of those blue goblets," Starscream reminded him.

"I'll get on it," Cosmos sighed.

Elita set to work unpacking some boxes of bells, and Starscream glanced around the room, looking for Jazz and Blaster. Finding nothing, his gaze fell instead upon Carly.

"Carly, you're going to be the pianist then?" he inquired.

Carly shook her head. "Nope, gotta work on my thesis. But I might be at the reception." Her fingers flickered over the keys and produced a triumphant flourish.

"Wow, those are some interesting acoustics," came Jazz's voice from the entrance. "This is gonna be a weird gig."

Starscream raised a hand in greeting. "I was just looking for you."

"Yeah?"

Skyfire stepped forward and explained, "I need to arrange the bachelor party. Can you watch Starscream while I'm gone?"

"Well, first I gotta finish settin' up this music," Jazz said, glancing at Blaster and the rehearsal band that had followed him in. "Not to mention choosing the pieces and putting up the stage. That means you'll be stuck here in the messhall till we're done, Screamer."

"I can wait; Paprika wanted me to look at some brochures anyway," Starscream said. "Might as well do it in here while you set up."

After reassuring Skyfire at length that they would do a good job as guardians, Jazz and Blaster shooed the large jet out. Blaster said,

"Bet Skyfire's glad to get away from all this madness. I ain't never seen a wedding planned in two days."

"You're telling me," Starscream said. "I've planned invasions that were less work than this."

"Uh, Mr. Blaster sir," one of the musicians asked, "We need to ask Mr. Starscream some questions, if he's available right now."

"Sure," Starscream said. He dropped down to one knee, and realized that it would be just like this when he proposed to Ms. Buckrinia and gave her the box with the gold bracelet in it. How she would coo with delighted surprise! How she would pour thanks into his audios as she slipped the bracelet on! She would look even more lovely than ever with the golden token of his love dangling from her wrist. A smile bent his lips as he pictured her beaming upon him like a sunrise.

"I'm Bernardo Purcell," the band leader said. "We can do anything you want, any style, any period. Now, I understand you're pressed for time, so I brought along a selection of music to choose from." He nodded at Blaster, who obligingly transformed to boombox mode. Starscream motioned for them to continue.

"First, what kind of music were you thinking of?" Bernardo asked. "Traditional, jazz, enchanting, rock, swing, polka, ethnic, or background?"

Starscream rubbed his cheek, feeling slightly overwhelmed at the array of choices.

"Uh...can you do wing whistling?"

Now it was Bernardo's turn to stare dumbly.

"It's what you'd get if you hooked a flute up to an air compressor," Blaster explained.

"Well, we could do flutes," Bernardo said with a helpless gesture. "But I don't think it would be a good idea to hook them up an air compressor."

"Too bad," Starscream said. "Okay, what do you suggest?"

"Depends. Is this a traditional wedding or informal or modern or...?"

Starscream thought for a moment. He hadn't given any consideration to the question of formality; he had simply taken it for granted that the wedding would be like most of the ones he had attended, i.e. run with the traditional military precision that never failed to bore him stiff. Informality would be a breath of fresh air. On the other hand, what would Ms. Buckrinia expect? She was old, so she would probably want something traditional. Maybe the American part of the ceremony could be traditional, and the Cybertronian side could be informal?

"I guess I want it to be modern, yet with some traditional elements. And it should be formal, but not too formal because I don't like having to salute all the time."

"So in other words you want a modern traditional wedding that's formally informal?" Jazz quipped.

"Oh, and what do you suggest?" Starscream said.

"If I was you I'd go for informal—takes less work and it's more fun for the guests." With a grin Jazz added, "And then at the reception we can have games, dancing contests—"

"Dancing!" Starscream shrieked, clapping a hand to his mouth. "I'm dead!"

He hated dancing! Already he could see himself flailing his way across the dance floor, Ms. Buckrinia staring at him in horror and wondering how she could have ever selected such a clutz for her lifemate. She might even decide to get a divorce on the spot just to forestall further humiliation.

"Woah man... You're nine million years old and you don't know how to dance?"

"Only in the air," Starscream said, shaking his head in despair. "I'm like a Dinobot on the ground."

"I could teach you how to dance," Elita volunteered. Starscream looked across the room to find her clipping silver bells to a tablecloth. She seemed like an angel sent from above to rescue him from his plight.

"Please do!" he cried.

She smiled and flashed an "OK" sign, then began to shove the tables to the edges of the room.

There was the clatter of folding chairs and music stands and the ruffling of papers as the band set up for practice. When the floor was clear Elita beckoned him to the center. And then Starscream realized that he had made a terrible, terrible mistake. He glanced around the room, taking in Cosmos, Gears, Blaster, Jazz and the band.

"Maybe we could do this somewhere else."

Elita gave him a kindly expression.

"Don't worry, everyone was a beginner once," she said. "Optimus used to step all over my feet."

In a low voice he murmured, "Did he ever knock you off a balcony with his wing?"

"Er...no."

"I rest my case."

Elita just stared pityingly at him. "How you you like to learn the Slip?" she asked. "That's an easy one."

Starscream only response was a quiet whimper.

"Now, now, you have to get over your embarrassment sooner or later," Elita chided. "Give me your hands. You're going to learn to dance."

Awkwardly Starscream took her hands. On cue, the band began to play a jazzy number.

"Okay, first we step back, now forward, then swing me around..." Starscream tried to keep up, but it suddenly felt as if his joints had stuck and his hydraulics were full of glue.

"It's okay, loosen up," Elita urged. "C'mon now, this is easy."

"That's what you think."

"Yeah, feel that beat Screamer! Get down!" Blaster shouted unhelpfully from behind him. Starscream clenched his jaw and kept moving his feet.

"You're crushing my hands," Elita murmured. "I am not a Decepticon warrior."

He forced himself to loosen his grip. "Sorry."

"Now for the slip," Elita said. "Let's bring our hands up to shoulder level—there, good. Now try to keep your waist as still as you can and jump a little and move your legs back and forth. Pretend you're like a tree that can move its roots around. Like this." While somehow keeping her upper body in place, she gave a little hop that brought her feet off the floor just enough so that she could slide them to one side. The move unbalanced her and she began tipping over sideways, but quickly she leapt again and reversed the maneuver. She repeated the action three times as Starscream tried to hold her steady. "There, see how easy it is?"

"I think that's the most hysterical thing I've ever heard."

"You try it now," Elita ordered.

It felt like the whole world was staring at him as he hopped up and slid his feet back and forth like she had. "Good, good," Elita praised. "You're getting the hang of it." Then he felt his thrusters slide a little too far to the side. Metal scraped against metal, and the next thing he knew he was sprawling sideways, half-pulling Elita down with him before her hands were torn out of his. She leapt frantically about trying to regain her balance but finally her toe caught on his cockpit and she crashed to the floor. The music continued discreetly.

"Ow..." Starscream groaned, putting a hand to his dinged canopy as he sat up. Jazz had turned away, a hand clamped over his mouth. The mech's shoulders were shaking. "See, I told you I was awful at this!"

"We've only been practicing for one minute," Elita said firmly, getting up and practically seizing his hands in hers. "Now, let's try again. This time don't overdo it."

The nightmare lasted for twenty minutes, by which time the Aerialbots and the Dinobots had gathered at the tables to watch and whisper comments that provoked explosions of barely-stifled snickering.

"Me Grimlock not feel so clumsy now," the Dinobot leader observed when Elita released his trembling hands at last.

"There, see? I knew you'd get the hang of it," she said cheerfully.

"Thank you," Starscream said, forcing a deathly smile. "I really appreciate this."

"One last thing..."

"Yes?"

"Remember to enjoy yourself." She patted him on the arm.

"Oh, I will," he reassured her. "I love dancing now and it's so much fun. You're a really good teacher. I don't think I need any more practice."

"Well, if you do..."

"Don't worry, I know where to find you." He slunk away to a table in the corner. The music crescendoed, then finished to a round of applause.

"So what did you think?" Bernardo asked breathlessly, coming up to him with saxophone in hand.

_I wonder if Ms. Buckrinia would agree to have our honeymoon in the bottom of my hole._

"Sounds great," he said. "Let's use it."

"So that takes care of the reception," Bernardo said in a satisfied tone. "That leaves the prelude and the ceremony itself. Did you want 'Here comes the bride'?"

Starscream nodded.

"For the prelude, did you want something more traditional? Strings and piano? Some harp?"

Starscream nodded again.

"Want to listen to some pieces?"

"Just choose something. I don't care what," he pleaded. "I need to look at these brochures now."

Taking the hint, Bernardo withdrew, promising to give him a program to look at once they had picked some numbers out. Starscream pulled out Paprika's brochures and stared down at them as hard as he could. Across the room he heard Grimlock observe,

"Me Grimlock think Starscream graceful like swan—big, waddling swan with fat webbed feet." Snarl and Sludge gave hissing chuckles of amusement.

"I've heard of two left feet, but I've never seen a bot with three," Slingshot replied, and the Aerialbots responded with stifled mirth.

Starscream unfolded one of the larger brochures and used it as a shield. This one was about floral arrangements. The spider lilies looked like they would go well with Cosmos' ribbons. He started when a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it man," Blaster said sympathetically. "They're just teasing you cause they're sore about losing yesterday."

"I noticed," Starscream said sullenly.

"Anyway, I wanted to tell you that if you ever want me to teach you some of my super stylin' dance moves..." he trailed off at Starscream's expression.

"No offense Blaster, but I'd rather be melted alive."

"Well... I suppose you probably won't have to worry 'bout it anyway. Ol' Ms. Buckrinia isn't going to marry—"

"Don't say it."

"Okay, okay," Blaster said, holding up his hands to ward off further comment. "I'm just saying, everybody knows this ain't gonna end well."

"I've got work to do."

Blaster sighed expressively, but departed. Broodily Starscream listened to the giggles emanating from the Aerialbots. Well, if they were going to be sore losers then he might as well be a sore winner. He stood up and silenced their laughter with a glare.

"Suddenly I feel a longing for the music of my home planet," he announced. "Go down to the medbay and have Ratchet fit you with wing and fin whistles. You're performing at the reception."

"What?" Air Raid exclaimed. "I don't know how to—"

"No excuses. Study Skydancer's 'Love in a Five-Stranded Braid' until you know it by heart. Dismissed!"

"But Starscream, we've never—" Fireflight protested.

"It will be a fun learning experience," Starscream said, not bothering to hide the sadistic tone that had crept into his voice. "Dismissed!"

The Aerialbots filed slowly out of the cafeteria. Starscream turned to Grimlock and set his hands on his hips.

"I see that you don't have anything important to do. So, why don't you go clear some space on our new property and mark off the engagement ring?"

"Hrrm...Me Grimlock not feel like it."

"You don't feel like it," Starscream repeated acidly. "How do you Grimlock feel about being struck from the guest list and spending the next two days alone and miserable on Dinobot Island while we enjoy ourselves?"

"Me Grimlock would feel sadder if me Grimlock didn't think that you Starscream had broken brainbox to believe that mean old lady ever marry you! Hahaha!" A chorus of reptilian laughter joined in.

"Fine! Get out of here before you break something!" Starscream cried. "And you're off the guest list!"

"Me Grimlock weeping for sadness," Grimlock snorted, and the Dinobots lumbered out.

Starscream slammed himself back into his seat and furiously studied the brochures. Brutally he selected baby blue carnation corsages, supersized flower girl baskets with satin lining and pearl handles, and a gilded wedding cake topper with customizable initials for bride and groom. With a decisive stroke he picked out a Lasting Memories guest book with matching engraved pen and holder.

He only looked up when he heard the familiar click of high heels accompanied by a hummed rendition of "Here comes the bride."

Paprika was approaching, a leather bag tucked under each arm. She was now wearing a blue skirt and paisley blouse; a daisy-covered hat was perched on top of her golden curls.

"Hey, darlin'. Have you gotten a chance to look through those brochures yet?" she purred.

"That's what I'm doing now," he snapped, holding down his hand for her to climb into.

"No thanks," she said with a nervous smile. "I'll just stay down here if it's okay by you. I brought you some more catalogues to look at." She unzipped one of the leather bags and pulled out what looked like a phonebook. Feeling obligated to be courteous, Starscream climbed out of his seat and knelt down next to her.

Paprika waved a hand. "Oh, and before I forget—have you talked to...uh, I'm sorry, I never got your fiancée's name?"

"Ms. Buckrinia," Starscream said, his annoyance lifting away. Even the sound of her name was enough to pierce through the darkest clouds, like a ray of sunlight, bright and beautiful and bold. _I should add that to my poem,_ he thought with sudden delight. "Isn't 'Buckrinia' a beautiful name? It fits her so well!"

"What's her first name?" Paprika asked, looking a little bit surprised.

Starscream smiled thoughtfully. "I don't know. I'll have to ask her."

"You don't know your future wife's first name?" Paprika exclaimed, her eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

"This is kind of a hasty wedding," Starscream said wryly. "Did you notice?"

"It certainly is," muttered Paprika. She coughed. "Anyway. I was going to ask if you had discussed what kind of cake you'd like with...Ms. Buckrinia."

"No. She's not on speaking terms with me at the moment."

"You're not on speaking terms?" Paprika looked flabbergasted. "Then why are you getting married?"

"Look, she'll forgive me soon enough," Starscream snapped. "Just plan the wedding, alright? Let me worry about the rest."

Paprika's face darkened, and for a moment Starscream thought she was going to quit then and there. But then she sighed and threw up her hands.

"Fine by me. Let's pick out a cake."

Paprika opened the catalogue she had taken out, and Starscream saw that it was entitled "Wedding Cakes of the World."

They picked out a five tier cake, and to be on the safe side Starscream chose a different flavor for each layer. The bottom layer was to be vanilla with buttercream frosting, the second layer chocolate, the third layer lemon, the fourth cheesecake, and the fifth carrot cake with chopped walnuts. The icing Paprika suggested was an expensive fondant variety that was supposed to give the cake a satiny sheen. And even this was not enough, for the frosting was to be further accented with silvery "luster dust" to make it sparkle. The final flourishes included sugary blue flowers, edible blue hearts made of some kind of special dough called "pastillage," and finally the cake topper he had picked out. Paprika insisted that the topper be changed to silver to match the rest of the wedding theme, and Starscream acceded the point. Then there was the silver cake platter engraved with roses, the matching silverware, and the cake boxes, which were apparently needed in case the guests wanted to bring a slice of cake home with them. The boxes had silken blue roses with glittering butterflies perched on top.

"Now, the guest list," Paprika said, closing the cake catalogue. "Have you gotten the invitations sent out?"

Starscream nodded. "Six hundred cards are on their way to Cybertron on Omega. And I made some extra ones for Ms. Buckrinia's relatives and acquaintances. A private detective is hunting them down and passing out invitations as we speak." Paprika stared at him speechlessly. "It's not illegal!" Starscream protested. Paprika shook her head.

"Well deary, I just hope for both your sakes that she forgives you."

"She will."

Paprika looked dubious, but continued, "Do you expect all six hundred guests to come?"

"Well, I'd say about half of them are in storage—there's no energy to power them up yet, but it's a nice courtesy to send an invitation anyway. Then maybe one hundred of those are going to be busy with the Decepticons, so that leaves about two hundred. That's how many I expect."

"I should warn you that I don't feel that I can plan for the needs of Autobot guests."

"Don't worry, I've got that under control," Starscream said.

* * *

Moonracer hit the deck as a spray of burning shrapnel rained across her back. It was only a probing shot; they didn't actually know where she was yet. But they were getting closer. Tentatively she peered out through the crack that served as both rifle stand and peephole. The distant artillery position was down to three drones. Too stupid to retreat, all they could think of was to take potshots at her with the big gun. They didn't even have the programming to put up a barricade.

Once again she pulled the stock of the gun to her shoulder and peered down the scope. As she did so her perception shrank down to the mental equivalent of tunnel vision, split horizontally and vertically by crosshairs. Magnified by a power of nineteen, she watched as the lead drone began reprogramming the artillery piece to a new position. The drone had a oil smudge conveniently placed over its main fuel tank. Too bad for it. Gently she pulled the slack out of the trigger. The drone dropped its head to check something on the gun. After a moment it raised its head again. She tightened the trigger—

_ Moonracer!_ With a gasp she jerked her optic back from the sight. _Guess what!_

The voice on the other end was disgustingly delighted.

_Thanks a lot!_ Moonracer transmitted back. _You just spoiled the perfect shot._

_All your shots are perfect,_ Firestar replied. _But guess what—you're going to Earth!_

For a moment Moonracer was dumbfounded. _Earth? Why? _

_A binding. You'll never guess who._ Firestar seemed to be savoring the suspense.

_Powerglide,_ Moonracer guessed. She had always suspected he was a bit sweet on her, but it hadn't bothered her to learn that he had taken up with Astoria.

_Nope! But __he__ *is* a handsome, highly eligible bachelor._ Firestar's voice was positively gleeful now.

_Well, this is getting interesting,_ Moonracer said, smiling. She put her optic back to the scope and thought. The drone was reaching for the firing button. She pulled the trigger and it dissolved into shrapnel. Pleased, she drew a bead on the next one. _A handsome, highly eligible bachelor, you say. Is it...Skyfire?_

_Try again!_ Firestar's voice broke up into a girlish giggle. _You'll never guess. _

_ Prowl?_

_ Nope!_

_ Mirage?_

_ Nope!_

_ Blaster?_

_ Nope!_

A dozen guesses later, Moonracer was getting frustrated. She sent another drone up in flames.

_Bumblebee? _

_ Nope!_

_ Gears? _

_ Nope!_

_ Huffer? _

_ Nope!_

_ For goodness' sakes Firestar! Did Optimus get a divorce or something? _ She lined the crosshairs up on the last drone.

_No! It's Starscream! He's getting bound to a human, and you're supposed to plan the party afterwards!_

Moonracer was so suprised she missed.

* * *

Megatron strode briskly down the corridor, a little smirk of anticipation playing about his lips as he turned the question of the morrow's contest over in his mind. It would be best, of course, if Skywarp won. But suppose he didn't? Suppose that it were left to him, Megatron, to squash the insolent Seeker into the dirt? He rubbed his chin, his smile turning ferocious.

"Okay, let's try it from the top. Remember you don't come in until after the second line."

Megatron's smile faded. That was Skywarp's voice, coming from the messhall—where it did not belong.

"She's from Iacon, boooohooooo, She's from Iacon, boooohooooo—"

And_ that _sounded like Skywarp singing. A suprisingly melodic chorus joined in:

"Boohoohoo, hoo, hoo, boohoohoo, hoo, hoo—"

Megatron's step faltered as he made to turn in. A part of him really didn't want to know what his Air Commander was up to. Probably some infernal practical joke. Or more likely, he was trying to impress those two femmes by starting a glee club. _Why didn't I choose Steeltrail? _Megatron lamented. Now there was a mech with dignity, self control. Maybe not the imaginative sort, but he would have made a decent Air Commander anyway. Steeltrail wouldn't have rewired the Darkmount lights to spell out "Starscream intakes car exhaust" in flashing lights. Or what about Doomdrone? A bit of a Dirge, maybe, but a fine commander nonetheless. Doomdrone would never have crashed the stock market by insinuating that a new secret weapon had been developed which would turn enemy soldiers into energon goodies.

Pursing his lips grimly, Megatron stepped into the cafeteria. Nine pairs of eyes found his and instantly the chorus died. All except Rumble, who continued going "hoo, hoo—" then lamely cut himself off. Megatron met Skywarp's innocent gaze.

"Why aren't you training."

Skywarp steepled his fingers and drew himself up.

"That's a very good question. You see, I figured since we had the Psych department here, we ought to show them how it's done. So, we're going to unleash a psychological strike upon Starscream."

Megatron was silent. That was a new one.

"What sort of 'strike'?"

"The worse kind, the worst kind," Skywarp said, smirking and clutching his chest as if stricken to the soul. Megatron just stared at him impatiently.

Skywarp's back straightened, and suddenly he was all soldier. The Seeker raised his chin, folded his hands behind his back, and began in a coolly professional tone,

"As you know, Starscream's greatest weakness is his lack of an emotional regulator. I intend to exploit this. How, you might ask, will I accomplish this bold plan?" Skywarp paused for effect. "The answer is simple: I intend to infuriate him to the point that he will lose his ability to think clearly in battle." Megatron kept his face expressionless, giving no sign that Skywarp's plan interested him. But it _did_ sound intriguing. Skywarp continued, "Which is where me and the Flying Octet come in. Our recent intelligence mission to the Autobot base revealed that—"

"What?" Megatron interrupted, his brow furrowing. "Flying Octet? What intelligence mission?"

"This morning. It was my idea," Skywarp said. "Anyway, while on said mission, we uncovered information vital to the war effort." Then the black and purple Seeker's act broke down and his face cracked into a grin of fiendish delight. "And do you want to know what that information is?"

Megatron gave an impatient nod. Skywarp's grin grew even wider. "My Autobot counterpart has, shall we say... (snicker) Ah, let me put it like this. Starscream is, uh... (cackle) Okay, wait—"

Megatron's hand itched to seize Skywarp by the neck. "Skywarp," he ground out.

Skywarp just laughed. "You're gonna love this, hehe, and I do mean love. Okay, here it is, the big secret, the game changer, the soon-to-be-not-secret secret." Skywarp leaned forward on his toes and his voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper. "Starscream is completely, utterly, insanely, head-over-heels in love. With a squishy, slimy, squirmy flesh creature!"

For a minute it didn't register. Then of its own volition Megatron's hand shot forward and clamped Skywarp's neck. The Seeker gave a little squeak of alarm and tried to pull away. Megatron hissed, "So help me Skywarp, if you don't tell me the secret—the_ real _secret—right now, I'll—"

"It's the truth, it's the truth!" Skywarp yipped. "Just ask Thundercracker! Or Rumble! They were there too."

Immediately a chorus of affirmation rose from the named parties.

"Nonsense!" Megatron snapped, then paused. Thundercracker wouldn't dare lie to him, would he? "Is this one of his blasted jokes?" he demanded of the blue Seeker. Thundecracker shook his head.

"It was on TV. Starscream said he loved this 'Buckrinia' woman in front of all the cameras. Soundwave could probably find the broadcast for you."

"Buckrinia?" Megatron echoed. The name sound vaguely familiar.

"She's the one who keeps taking potshots at Laserbeak," Skywarp croaked. "Her house must be an arsenal."

Slowly Megatron released the Seeker. Skywarp jumped back and rubbed his neck, shooting him a hurt look. But already Megatron's thoughts were turning. Starscream—in love! How could they use that? In the contest tomorrow?

"I see I underestimated you, Skywarp," Megatron said in a conciliatory tone, his lips twisting into a smile. "Explain this psychological strike of yours further."

* * *

"I need to borrow Elita. You can have her back in a minute," Starscream promised, tugging Elita towards the door of the command center.

"What for?" Optimus asked, a hint of irritation in his voice as it was revealed that he had been holding hands with her surreptitiously.

"Wedding rehearsal. I need a bride."

An explosion of laughter from Blaster, who quickly stifled himself.

"Sorry," he coughed. "That sounded funny." Elita grinned and gave a good humored shrug to Optimus as Starscream drew her away.

They stopped just outside the base, the baking June heat a shock after the cool interior of the base. Starscream made a gesture that encompassed the surroundings.

"This is where everyone will congregate before the precession. They'll promenade down to the command center, where I'll be waiting." He made to go back down the tunnel to the point where he would wait for Ms. Buckrinia.

"Hey, aren't you going to carry me across the threshold?" Elita joked.

"What?" Starscream asked, puzzled.

"Human custom," Blaster spoke up from behind. "You gotta carry the bride over the threshold."

"Hm...Perhaps a relic of the days when human males clubbed their mates unconscious and dragged them into their cave by the hair," Starscream speculated. "Well, upsy daisy, Elita."

"How romantic," she said wryly as Starscream seized her by the waist and slung her over his wing in the wounded mech carry. Starscream took one ceremonious step across the threshold of the access tunnel and then knelt, letting her down.

"Alright, so much for that," he said, dusting his knees off. "Now comes the procession. No, no music yet Blaster. Let's pretend everybody is standing along the walls of the entry tunnel. The person I get to perform the ceremony will be waiting near the end of the tunnel, right there." He pointed at an empty spot some twenty yards distant. "You stay here for now Elita. Blaster, you're the best man. Follow me."

Starscream marched stiffly up the entry tunnel. He stopped when he reached the point he had indicated, then executed a crisp spin and faced Elita.

"Music." A moment later "Here comes the bride" emanated from Blaster's speakers. Elita made to come forward, but Starscream waved her back.

"First come the bridesmaids, groomsmen and flower girl."

Starscream waited as imaginary people strode up the aisle and took their places on either side of him. Finally he gestured for Elita to join him. With a firm step she paced up the tunnel, her gaze locked straight ahead. Starscream met her just before she reached him.

"Now what?" Elita asked.

"Now I'll take your arm and escort you these last few steps. Wouldn't want you escaping from my cave." Smirking, he grabbed her elbow. "Oops, I'm supposed to be on other side." Quickly he circled around and took her other arm. They stopped in front of Blaster and Starscream nodded for him to go.

Pretentiously Blaster began, "We are gathered here today—"

"I'm back!" Skyfire's cheery voice echoed down the entry tunnel.

"About time!" Blaster barked.

"Sorry about that. I had some trouble with the arrangements," Skyfire explained. "Rehearsal?"

Elita nodded, then asked plaintatively. "Is it true that human males used to club their women and drag them into caves?"

Skyfire grinned apologetically. "Well, I won't say no. But I'm afraid that Starscream and I arrived here too early to see the beginning of the human species." He turned to Starscream. "Are you ready for the party?"

"If you are. I guess we'll have to get married later, Elita. Will you be around?"

Elita one shook her head. "Optimus and I have to go over some tactical reports."

Starscream grinned. "Wouldn't want to miss out on those tactical reports."

Elita tried to swat him, but Starscream dodged aside.

"Why don't you bug Carly?" Elita suggested, glaring. "She's the right size for a bride, and she does a good Buckrinia impression."

Starscream just shuddered. "Don't even say it." He leapt into the sky and Skyfire followed.

Skyfire set a course towards the mountains. As they passed over the booby-trapped canyon Starscream glanced warily about for Powerglide. He had expected the other jet to show up by now, and his absence was becoming increasingly worrisome.

"Whatever happened to Powerglide?" he wondered aloud.

"Probably holed up somewhere with a bottle of paint stripper," Skyfire said. "You know he'll probably hate you for life."

"Oh, it served him right," Starscream said. Powerglide's already swollen ego had been steadily expanding under the continuous oozing admirations of his all-girl fanclub. It was high time someone deflated it. "So where is this party anyway?"

"Right down here."

Skyfire descended towards a shallow divet nestled amongst the foothills. Starscream followed him and came down in a little copse of pines.

"Why'd you pick this spot?" he asked, looking around at the chest-high trees.

"You'll see in a minute," said Skyfire, smiling. He pulled a piece of pink cloth out of subspace. "But first let me blindfold you."

"Oh, a surprise," Starscream said appreciatively. He let Skyfire tie the bandage over his optics. "You know I have radar so I can see everything, don't you?"

"Turn it off."

"Alright, alright," said Starscream, obeying.

"Now you're sure you can't see anything?"

"Nope. Not a thing."

"Good."

Starscream never saw it coming.

* * *

Skyfire leaned over Starscream's crumpled form and peeled away the blindfold, exposing the naive gaze beneath. Carefully he rubbed the cloth over his knuckles to remove any traces of dark grey paint.

"Sorry," he murmured. When he was done he picked up the Seeker by the armpits and slung him over his wing. He swayed for a moment beneath his thirty ton burden, then steadied himself and made his way up towards the abandoned dig.

Some twenty years earlier, a paleontological expedition had burrowed an eighty foot tunnel into the side of a cliff in pursuit of ceratopsid bones, using excavation equipment brought in by helicopter. The rusting yellow equipment was still there after twenty years, and the tunnel was in good shape. Things lasted a long time in the desert, but just to be on the safe side Skyfire had shored up the first forty feet. Now all he had to do was remove Ratchet's tracking device and it would be nighty night Starscream until the VEX scan came back.

He laid Starscream down at the entrance and pulled out a crate of tools. Inside was a datapad with the schematic of Ratchet's tracker. The medic had designed the homing device to be impossible for Starscream to remove, but for an outside party it shouldn't be difficult—or so Skyfire hoped. He crouched down by Starscream's head, transmitted the proper release codes, and popped open the other's headpiece. Then, frowning in concentration, he set to work with a microtweezers.

Five minutes later it was done. Skyfire had been surprised at how easy it had been. Why, with just a mirror and the right tools Starscream could have... Skyfire's face grew somber for a moment. _But, it won't matter now, _he decided. The bug was out, and Starscream's self repair system and commlink were deactivated. Skyfire closed up the other's headpiece and flipped the Seeker over on his stomach. Taking out a pair of cuffs, he fastened Starscream's hands behind his back. Next he applied a similar treatment to the other's ankles. The cuffs were unnecessary, since Starscream's self repair system was off and he should stay unconscious, but Skyfire was taking no chances.

He knelt by Starscream's legs. Unscrewing the access panels, he found the yellow wires that transmitted the ignition signal to his thrusters. With a quick snip of the wire cutters they were severed. Next he opened panel A330 in Starscream's back, where the hub of the other's antigrav circuitry lay. He hunted through the mechanism for a moment, then found what he was looking for—the main power plug. He pulled it. That would prevent Starscream from hovering and floating.

Satisfied that the Seeker wasn't going anywhere, Skyfire pushed Starscream feet first into the tunnel. The silver jet's 42'10'' wingspan rasped against the walls as he slid in, but Skyfire had measured the clearance beforehand and the other jet just fit. When Starscream's head disappeared into the hole, Skyfire dragged an earthmover over and blocked off the tunnel.

He stood back and examined his work. There was no way for Ratchet to track Starscream down, no way for Starscream to wake up, no way for him to undo the handcuffs if he did wake up, no way for him to crawl, fly, or float out of the tunnel, no way for him to call for help. Skyfire ran over his precautions in his mind one more time. Was there anything he had missed? Any small, significant detail that could derail his entire plan? Nothing came.

It was time to move on to the next phase. Now he had to put the tracking device somewhere misleading for Ratchet to find. Perhaps off the coast somewhere, out in deep water? When he returned, he would claim that Starscream had attacked him and escaped. A few strategically placed dents would confirm his story beyond the slightest suspicion, and Starscream would remain offline—and safe—until the VEX scan returned. Satisfied with his plan, Skyfire transformed and blasted into the sky.

The sonorous rumble of his departing engines drowned out the crunch of stealthy footsteps approaching the tunnel.

* * *

The first thing Starscream became aware of was the searing heat baking his back. The second thing he noticed was the gravel pressing into his face. One at a time his optics flared to life, and he gazed blearily out across a shimmering, endless expanse of sand and rocks. And the third thing he became aware of was that his hands were fastened behind his back.

He groaned and tried to remember how he had gotten out into the middle of the desert. Skyfire had blindfolded him, and then...? The aching dent in the side of his head supplied the answer.

"Skyfire!" His angry voice shattered the sound of wind whispering through the rocks. Nothing. "Skyfire!" he tried again, his voice rising in fury. "SKYFIRE!"

He tried to move his legs, and discovered that his ankles were bound. With a curse, he shoved his intakes and wingtips into the sand to brace himself and slowly worked his knees up underneath his canopy. His face pressed into the sand, the dent aching with every movement. Finally he gathered himself and rocked backwards as hard as he could. The maneuver was successful, and he managed to draw himself up onto his knees. He spat out a few pieces of gravel and looked around. Emptiness in every direction. Where _was_ he?

Then he noticed his intakes and gasped. Pink. What had been red before was blazing pink now. For a mortified second he just stared at himself. Was this Powerglide's revenge? Had he and Skyfire been co-conspirators? ...Or had Sunstreaker's protective enamel just given out under the blazing sun?

After a moment of thought, Starscream decided grimly that he didn't care who had done it or what he looked like, just so long as Ms. Buckrinia didn't see him. Right now he needed to find help. He tried his comm. Nothing. Skyfire had taken it offline, of course. He did a quick diagnostic and cursed some more. His thrusters were offline, ditto his antigrav system. _Some friend,_ he thought bitterly. _He can forget about being best man. _

After a frustrating struggle he managed to lurch to his feet. From the higher vantage point he could make out a thin line of mountains spreading across the horizon. He probed at them with a directed laser pulse and found them to be some four hundred miles distant. If those were the mountains near the base, that would put him roughly a hundred miles east of the main road. All he had to do was head west and he would hit it in a few hours. Of course, he would have to wait until after dark to cross the road, since it led by Ms. Buckrinia's house. It would be the end of everything if she happened to drive by and see him like this. Starscream shuddered, the word "Pinko" passing through his head. That would be the perfect way to end the day.

He set off. With his ankles hobbled he had to hop, and the cuffs clanked with every bounce. Irritably he wondered if he could even make it to the road by dark. How long had he been unconscious? He checked his internal chronometer. And almost toppled over in horror.

It was 11:02 am local time—11:02 am _tomorrow_. He had been out all night! And that meant he had exactly fifty-eight minutes until he was supposed to fight Skywarp!

For a moment his thoughts spun desperately as he tried to come up with a way to get back to base in time. Could he catch the attention of a passing plane? Or somehow make a signal that would attract help? He looked around for something to use, but there was nothing in sight but rocks. And how could he build anything with his hands locked behind his back? No, it was hopeless—he would never be able to make it home in time.

But perhaps—perhaps he could make it to the place Skywarp had chosen to hold the fight in. If he remembered correctly it was supposed to be held at the "Okay Coral" just a few hours' drive from the base. Yes, that was it—Bumblebee had remarked that the choice of the battlefield must have something to do with Skywarp's notoriously demented sense of humor. Swiftly he opened a mental map, oriented himself by the mountains and the position of the sun, and found the spot. It was off the main highway, in the small town of Wild West Family Amusements. If he headed north, he ought to see a gravel road leading to it.

There wasn't a second to lose. He hopped frantically for the road.

* * *

The radio station was easily overcome. When the humans had been evicted, Rumble entered and secured the broadcaster's post. A moment later his voice rang out over the airwaves, confirming that the station was under Decepticon control.

Skywarp smirked as he looked up at the towering antenna. Turning back to the rest of the Flying Octet, he passed out microphones and transmitted the lyric sheets.

"Remember, don't come in until I've finished the second verse," he warned for the umpteenth time.

"We got it, we got it," Astrotrain grumbled.

"Quick warmup!" Skywarp ordered. He threw out his arms and sang, "Mimimimimiiiii!" Thundercracker's deep baritone joined in, then the rest of the group in a raucious cacophony. "Alright, that's good," Skywarp said abruptly, cutting it off. "Let's open with number twelve. But first..." He opened a link to Rumble.

"Cupid One to Lovebird. You read me?"

"Yeah, loud and clear. Ready to start?"

"Put us on." Skywarp looked at the rest of the flyers and put a finger to his lips.

"You're live," Rumble said. Skywarp raised the microphone and began,

"This hour of music goes out to Starscream and the irresistable Ms. Buckrinia. I hope you two are cudded up with each other right now, 'cause you don't want to miss a second of this sweet melody. Turn up the radio and warm up those lips 'cause here we go!" He made a quick signal to the other flyers, and as one they broke out in a charming rendition of that classic Iaconian favorite, "I Wanna Lock Lip Components With You!"

* * *

Starscream threw himself into the path of the approaching semi and screamed, "Stop! Stop!"

The blast of the truck's horn and the skid of tires sliding on gravel drowned out his voice and every other noise. Starscream held his ground. The truck bore down on him, gravel spraying out from under its wheels. It would stop, it would stop...! "STOP!" he shrieked. The semi jerked to a halt meters away. The driver, a pudgy middle-aged man with a scraggly beard, jumped out.

"Hey, you're that Starscream guy! I saw you yesterday on the news. Only you're pink."

"Yeah, and I'm in a hurry," Starscream said, hopping up to the man. "I don't have time to explain, but if you get me to the Okay Coral in twenty minutes I'll give you a medal!" The human stared uncertainly. "And a hundred thousand dollars!"

"What are we waiting for?" the man cried. "Help me get these pipes off!"

The human raced around, undoing the straps which held five enormous culverts in place on the flatbed. When he was done Starscream threw his shoulder against the stacked pipes and sent them rolling into the ditch with a crash that resounded through the desolate landscape. Then he clambered awkwardly onto the flatbed and laid down on his stomach. The truck settled onto its lift axels, trying to cope with the new weight that had been laid upon it. The driver threw one strap over him and tightened it down. Then in a flash he leapt into the cab and turned over the engine.

"By the way, I'm Steve," the man called out the window, his voice barely carrying over the growling diesel and the noise of his radio. "And congrats about Ms. Buckrina. Wanna listen?" Steve pumped the gas and the semi pulled forward.

"What?" Starscream shouted over the mounting wind.

Suddenly the radio's volume increased to a howl and Starscream could hear a voice raised in song.

"Sizzling lips! Baby kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, kiss me! Oh baby! Sizzling lips!" The song ended abruptly. _No,_ Starscream thought, an awful suspicion rising within him. _Impossible!_ The voice on the radio continued mockingly, "I hope you're still listening Screamer—although I guess you're pretty distracted by now, heh heh. Well, wipe off that gooey human saliva and get ready for round two." There was the sound of lips smacking loudly.

Starscream's optics enflamed into twin funeral pyres.

"That—that—putrid—rusty—corroded—warped—miserable— " Dozens of words exploded from him, but none of them seemed adequate to describe the despicable person who dared to mock his beloved, tainting their love with a vile parody of—

"Our last song is 'Hold Me In Your Strong Tender Arms,'" Skywarp said in a sappily sweet voice. "Snuggle up close with your squishy little pink primate, because this song's just for you."

Then he began to sing—in a mocking, insinuating voice that mouthed sweet nothings that implied _everything. _

Starscream's hands clenched into murderous claws and squeezed tighter, tighter.

He raised his face to the sky and screamed, "There will be nothing left of you but disassociated electrons!"

* * *

A little knot of Autobots paced outside the "wildest, wooliest" tourist attraction in the whole state. The ghost town had been constructed two years ago and was famous for its daily shows. Every high noon, a real shoot out with real cowboys would take place in the O.K. Corral, and every day a real dead man would be dragged off to Boot Hill, which had been constructed with a caterpillar and decorated with crosses made of particle board.

"Oh man, I hope he comes," Spike muttered, scanning the sky for a silver dot. "What are we gonna do if he doesn't show up?"

"I'll go in instead," Ironhide said stolidly. Half to himself he added, "But I'm more worried about Starscream than this blasted contest."

The rhythmic thud of Skyfire's heavy footsteps came and went as the jet circled back and forth around the edge of the corral. The mech's haggard face testified to the long night he had spent calling up smelting companies. Even now, most of Autobots were preoccupied with searching, and only a small contingent had come to the contest in the slim hope that Starscream might show up.

Then came the distant drone of engines—a noise too loud for a single jet. All optics and eyes sought the source, and all saw two dozen specks approaching over the horizon: the entire Decepticon force.

A moment late Skywarp alighted in the center of the corral and struck a grand pose. The cluster of tourists who had gathered around the corral raised their cameras and documented the moment for posterity in a cascade of flashes. The rest of the Decepticons settled around the edge of the fence. Megatron's optics swept sharply over the cluster of Autobots, noting their small numbers and the conspicuous absence of a certain silver jet.

"Prime!" he called after a moment. "You seem to have forgotten something!" A ripple of laughter ran through the Decepticon ranks.

"Megatron," Optimus said evenly. "There are still three minutes left till noon."

"Then your Air Commander had better hurry," Megatron said.

Skywarp pointedly looked up at the sky and tapped his foot. The Decepticons murmured comments that provoked explosions of laughter. Skyfire paced back and forth as a minute passed slowly by. The Autobots glanced hopefully skyward. Another minute passed.

"Hohum," Skywarp yawned. "One minute left till noon."

Ironhide turned to Optimus and said something in a hushed tone. Optimus nodded grimly. Ironhide stepped up the fence and waited.

"Thirty seconds," Skywarp announced boredly.

Spike took off his hardhat and fanned his face with it. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck and into his shirt collar. Skyfire muttered some untranslatable alien words that aptly described the situtation. A tumbleweed on a string slid by and was drawn into a nearby barn.

Suddenly there was the distant growl of a motor. All optics leapt towards the sky. There was nothing there, not even a cloud. But a thin trail of dust could be seen on the road.

"Hey, what's that?" Spike said, squinting.

"Just a truck," Ironhide muttered, turning away. Gloomily Spike did likewise.

The rumble of the diesel drew nearer, and as one the Autobots silently cursed the machine for drowning out any distant whine of a jet engine. They could hear the truck pulling up in the lot, tires crunching on the gravel. There was the squeaky woosh of airbrakes being set.

"Time's up!" Skywarp cried gleefully. "Looks like I win by default!"

"No you don't!" a familiar voice shouted.

"Starscream!" Skyfire said hoarsely, and the Autobots wheeled around to see the Seeker himself roll off the flatbed and land ignominously in the dirt. His torso and pinstripes were pink as Elita One's lip enamel. A gasp rose from the Decepticons followed by giggling and hooting. Skywarp just pointed and sobbed in laughter. The tourists' cameras clicked.

Starscream writhed about on the ground and finally managed to gain his feet. With furious dignity the silver and pink Seeker hopped through the parking lot, down the main street, and up to Skyfire. The large jet gaped at him as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Glad to see me?" Starscream demanded.

"But—you... I—I—" Skyfire stammered.

"Your little plot backfired," Starscream hissed. "And I'm going to see that you don't get a second chance. Now undo these cuffs. That's an order, _Flight Leader_."

Skyfire looked around at the circle of astounded faces. Were they shocked that Starscream blamed him? Or were they surprised that Starcream had referred to him by a rank lower than the one he actually held? There seemed to be a note of betrayal in that ring of optics.

Skyfire's face hardened as he drew the release mechanism from the subspace compartment in his arm. With slow deliberation he crushed it into a mass of sparking electronics, then tossed it at Starscream's feet. Starscream stared in outrage.

"I won't be the one to sign your death warrant," Skyfire declared. He turned to Optimus and saluted. "I believe that honor falls to you, Prime." Then, before anyone could react he leapt into the air and transformed, rocketing away in a cloud of dust.

"Skyfire! Come back here! That's an order!" Starscream screamed, but the white flyer was already lost in the blue. "Someone stop him!"

But none of the Autobots obeyed. They were just staring in shock at Skyfire's contrail. Then one by one their gazes dropped to the ground.

"D-did he just...?" Spike asked. He coughed, and scuffed the ground with his boot.

"Oooh, insubordination in the ranks!" Skywarp called gleefully. "Hey Starscream, cute look! Are you the new Barbie jet, or does Ms. Buckrinia just like pink?"

"Don't you dare take her name on your filthy lips!" Starscream shouted.

"Oooh, Barbie jet's mad at me. I'm scared now," Skywarp whimpered.

"You'd better be!" Starscream cried. "Get these cuffs off Ratchet. And I mean _now!" _

Ratchet looked at Optimus. The Autobot leader nodded shortly.

"Be careful—don't let him escape," Ironhide warned, and the rest of the Autobots looked ready to pounce on their returned Air Commander if he so much as twitched.

"What's your energy level?" Ratchet asked, lighting a plasma torch and beginning to cut Starscream's cuffs off.

"63 percent," Starscream said. "And Skyfire disabled my engines and antigravs."

"I hope that's an easy fix."

"Two wires and a pulled out plug. Did you bring the chip for my null ray? Ironhide! Help Ratchet with these cuffs!"

Loudly, Skywarp said, "I didn't know Valentine's day was so close." The Decepticons crackled with laughter.

"Do you think his nullrays shoot rainbows and hearts?" Rumble called back.

"Only at Ms. Buckrinia," Skywarp purred.

If Skywarp had been able to see the maniacal fury that blazed from Starscream's blue optics, he might have had second thoughts about making fun of Ms. Buckrinia. He might even have had second thoughts about stepping into ring with the other Seeker at all. But instead, all he saw was a ludicrous pink figure who had apparently been handcuffed by his own best friend to keep him from coming to the fight. The sight filled Skywarp with boundless confidence.

"Hey, I got an idea," the black Seeker said, turning to his troops with a grin. "Let's sing a song while Starscream is—ehe—warming up. Number 11. A one and a two and a one two three four—!" The Decepticon flyers broke into the rapturous strains of "One Sweet Tailfin."

Suddenly Starscream felt the cuffs on his legs and wrists come loose. He was unconscious of the fact that he had torn them off. He felt the rectifier chip being pressed into his hand, and he ripped his canopy open and inserted it.

"You bucket of sun-baked worms!" Starscream shrieked, slamming his canopy shut.

He leapt the fence and fired his nullray straight into Skywarp's leering face. The Decepticon Air Commander dropped in a boneless sprawl. Starscream pounced on him and seized him by the neck, smashing him against the ground over and over again.

"Never—ever—talk about her like that!" he screamed. "Do you hear me! Never—ever!"

The next thing he was aware of was a pair of arms seizing him and dragging him away from Skywarp. He struggled wildly, trying to get back, but the grip was inexorable.

"Cheater! Foul!" the Decepticons were screaming. They had surged to their feet, their weapons raised and pointed across the corral. To Starscream's frustration, Thundercracker leapt forward, scooped up Skywarp, and scrambled back to the Decepticon ranks with him.

"So this is your idea of sportsmanship, Prime," Megatron growled, his fusion humming with power. "Even _I_ am appalled."

"That must take some doing, Megatron," Optimus replied evenly, his voice coming from directly above. Starscream glanced upwards and found Optimus pinioning him.

"Let me go! He mocked Ms. Buckrinia!" Starscream cried, trying to wrench himself free.

"_Enough!" _Optimus hissed. Starscream was so surprised by the other's tone of voice that he ceased struggling. Raising his voice to address Megatron, Optimus continued, "If you and Skywarp are willing to continue this battle, then so are we. I propose a ten minute recess for repairs."

Megatron's optics narrowed fractionally, then he glanced backwards to take in the scope of Skywarp's injuries. The Seeker was already making weak attempts to move.

"In spite of your treachery, I consent," Megatron said, lowering his fusion cannon. "If only to see how your Air Commander fares against a conscious opponent."

Optimus gave a signal and haltingly the Autobots lowered their weapons. The Decepticons slowly followed suit.

"Hey, what kinda lame show is this?" a tourist yelled. "Fight! Fight!"

"Time for you to go," Ironhide growled, herding the gaggle of speculators away.

Starscream felt Optimus' grip loosen, and again he tried to squirm free. But Optimus just spun him around so they were face to face. In a voice that Starscream rarely heard him use, he said,

"You will behave like an Autobot. Is that clear?"

Starscream suddenly realized he was in error.

"Uh, y-yes Optimus. I—uh—I—" He fell silent.

Optimus released him without a word. Starscream looked away. His gaze settled on Ratchet, who shot him a look of disapproval that would have melted sand into glass. Searching for something to break the silence, he blurted,

"Can I have an energon cube? I'm starving!"

Grudgingly Ratchet produced an energon cube. Starscream raised it to his lips and hid behind it as he gulped it down. _It's not fair_, he thought bitterly. _Skywarp deserved it. And he would have done the same thing to me. _Which of course was Optimus' point—it was an act worthy of a Decepticon. Starscream's free hand tightened in a seething mixture of shame and resentment. It wasn't fair! He was no Decepticon, but what else could he have done? Just let Skywarp keep mocking his beloved?_ Never! _

He straightened his shoulders, casting the empty energon cube aside.

"Couldn't you have brought aviation high grade?" he demanded. "This is sump drainage!"

Ratchet said nothing, just continuing to sauter up the wires in his legs. Sulkily Starscream looked away and watched as the Decepticons tended to their stunned Air Commander. He could hardly wait to get his hands around that neck again.

At last Ratchet reactivated his antigrav system. Then, to Starscream's relief, the medic produced an airbrush that covered up the worst of his indignity.

At last Starscream stood face to face with Skywarp in the center of the corral. Skywarp had tottered a bit as he made his way into the ring, but Starscream was not deceived. Unless Skywarp's teleportation hardware rendered him dramatically susceptible to the nullray—and nothing indicated that it did—the Decepticon would have recovered well over five minutes ago.

Starscream sized up the black and purple Seeker, their glares meeting like twin lasers. There was no jesting in Skywarp's bloody optics now; the other Seeker was out for revenge, just as he was. _It'll all be over in the first second,_ Starscream thought. There would be no testing of each other's weaknesses, no showing off for the crowd. Unless something unexpected happened, either he would hit Skywarp with his nullray and the contest would be over with one shot, or Skywarp would teleport behind him and blast him in the back at point blank range. His only defense was to spin sideways as he made his first shot and fire both forward and backwards at the same time; if he missed Skywarp with the forward turret perhaps he would get lucky with the reverse. If not, he wouldn't even see the blast that struck him down. Skywarp fixed him a look of utter contempt.

"So this is the famous Autobot honor. You had better hope you get off your first shot, coward, or it'll be your last."

Few things disgusted Starscream more than the sight of a self righteous Decepticon maundering about Autobot hypocrisy. In a burst of anger he opened his canopy, tore out his rectifier chip, and tossed it aside. "Happy?" Skywarp's optics widened and a cry went up from the onlookers.

For a moment Skywarp just glared, and Starscream was afraid that he had misjudged his adversary. But then Skywarp ripped open his canopy and tossed away his own chip.

"Let's go," he growled.

"One on one combat, Skywarp," Starscream intoned. Peripherally he was aware of the Decepticons leaning forward eagerly, their weapons drawn and ready to avenge the slightest hint of foul play.

"With the vanquished to suffer the everlasting shame of defeat," Skywarp finished.

Then all was perfect silence. Starscream felt nothing and everything. The whole world seemed to consist of Skywarp's black figure, purple sigils, poised laser cannons. No thoughts went through his mind, only pure emotions. Every wire in his body sang with nervous tension, yet he was not afraid; all he felt was an all-consuming desire to exact the maximum price for his and Ms. Buckrinia's humiliation. Beautiful Ms. Buckrinia with her eyes of blue steel...if only she could be here to cheer him on. Love so strong it hurt welled up within him as he imagined her dear face regarding him with those piercing eyes. He realized suddenly that he must either win her or die. And how much better to suffer a thousand deaths than to live without Ms. Buckrinia! If he should perish this very day, then at least she would finally know how much he loved her. And he resolved that whatever happened, he would make the filthy scum who dared insult her suffer.

Hope, hatred, love swam fluidly through his consciousness, and gradually even those dissipated until all he could sense was his tightly strung body and his fuel pump cycling with fast, smooth strokes. Across the corral Skywarp stood like a statue, feet planted apart and arms held loosely at his sides. Starscream noticed the other Seeker's scratches, his dusty feet, the frozen play of light on his canopy. Each color seemed more vivid, each impression more intensely real. Starscream felt a fly land on his leg, then take off again. The wind tossed a tiny wisp of dust up from Skywarp's foot and disappeared. The tension rose to an unbearable level. And then he couldn't wait any longer.

Starscream whipped up his arm and fired. As if in a mirror, he saw Skywarp do likewise. They both twisted sideways to dodge, and he watched as his laser shattered the other's canopy and passed harmlessly through, hitting a Decepticon femme in the neck. Then pain like a burning spear plunged into his shoulder as the other's blast struck home. A gasp broke involuntarily from his lips.

He had meant to keep firing, but as soon as he saw the bare wires sparking at the base of his turret he knew it was useless. A flash of fear went through him as he realized that half his offensive capability was gone and Skywarp wasn't even hurt.

"Nice shot!" Skywarp taunted, and another purple bolt sprang from his cannon. Starscream leapt sideways, trying to bring up his own gun. Too slow—the burning kiss of the laser scored across his intake, leaving a bubbling trail of torn metal. He gave a cry of pain mingled with frustration. He had to get out of the way! And there was no cover!

He hit the dusty ground hard. No time to aim. He pointed in the other's direction and fired, just hoping to keep Skywarp occupied. Someone roared in pain. Had he had gotten lucky after all? Then the spectators began scrabbling backwards and he knew he had hit another bystander—Thundercracker. Skywarp's focus broke momentarily and that was all the opening Starscream needed. Gathering his feet underneath him, he fired a parting shot and launched himself into the air.

He caught a glimpse of Skywarp's startled face as the Decepticon stumbled backwards, clutching at his side. Then the jolt of a 600 mile per hour acceleration run through his legs and press his arms to his sides. In an instant the corral had dwindled to a speck.

A feeling of exhilaration surged through him as he transformed to jet mode and felt the rough air turn smooth around him. On the ground they might have been evenly matched, but in the sky it would be a different story! A broken canopy would be a crippling wound.

"Come up, Skywimp, and face me!" he crowed, rushing away from the battlefield on full afterburners.

Skywarp's only response was roar into the air after him. The loss of his canopy was clearly slowing the other Seeker down, the jagged hole acting like a cup that interrupted the air flowing around his sculpted form. Already smelling fuel, Starscream grinned savagely beneath his fuselage. He would pummel Skywarp until scraps fell from the sky like rain! Snap-rolling over on his side, he drew the other jet into his sights and fired.

Skywarp surged forward as if a rope had been cut.

Starscream watched, startled, as what should have been a perfect shot passed through the empty space between the other's tailfins. _He was faking it!_ Skywarp had exaggerated his slowness, just as he had exaggerated the effects of the null ray! Furious, Starscream loosed a barrage of laser bolts at the fleeing black jet. Skywarp wove and darted, lines of deadly light streaking over and under his wings. The evasive maneuvers were still sluggish, but noticeably faster than before.

"When is Megatron going to get himself a real Air Commander?" Starscream taunted, hoping to goad the other jet into doubling back. "I've had more challenge netting butterflies!"

"Kiss this, loverboy," was Skywarp's response, and a burst of fire erupted from his belly as a missile screamed forth. With a hiss of dismay Starscream laid down a barrage that skated too far up, down, or sideways of the missile. Then came a second shriek as another missile erupted from Skywarp's belly. Then came a third, a fourth, and to Starscream's mounting horror, a fifth. The black Seeker had fired off his entire arsenal, staking everything on one big chance at killing him! Starscream felt like his fuel had stopped flowing. He couldn't possibly dodge that many missiles. So that left only one option. Somehow he would have to destroy them_. _

Already the first missile was curling around towards him. Starscream targeted it and unleased a cluster bomb. The warhead howled out of him and intercepted the missile, both projectiles exploding in a fiery cloud. He instantly began to target another one, but the shockwave of the explosion bucked the air and his lock was momentarily broken. He cursed at the precious second lost, and pressed the lock. In the edge of his vision he could see Skywarp circling around to come into firing position. No time to think about that now. He fired another warhead, and it streaked out and touched off the second missile. Three missiles left—they were too close now!

He turned and fled, the missiles following him like a pack of wolves. Somehow he had to get them off his back, and he couldn't get at them with cluster bombs at this angle. Could he lead them into the ground? There was nothing to lose by trying. He dove, the howl of the wind turning into a scream as he plummeted towards the earth. Afraid of what he would see, he looked up. The missiles were _still_ gaining on him! Even as he watched, one of them surged hungrily forward towards his exhaust nozzles. He had only a split second to react. Simultaneously he turned off his engines and fired off three cluster bombs. Then he pulled up as hard as he could on flaps alone.

The trick almost worked. Two missiles shot off towards the glowing new heat sources, but the one in the lead stayed locked onto his residual heat. It crashed into his left tail fin and suddenly the sky seemed to be nothing but roaring heat and pain.

The next thing he knew he was lying on his back, his body mashed into a rough, wet surface. He realized vaguely that he must have managed to transform on the way down. His chest was painfully hot, and he could hear ominous crackling, popping noises issuing from within. Had he managed to subspace his fuel? Or was that oily smoke billowing out of him?

"Starscream, get up!" Spike yelled distantly.

_Thanks for the advice,_ he thought._ I would have never thought of that. _Suddenly a shadow blotted out the sun. A sneering face glared down on him, and Starscream felt Skywarp plant a foot in his burning chest.

"Yield!"

Through a blur of pain, Starscream took a final account of his options. Arms—broken. Legs—broken. Wings—broken. Engines—broken. Armament—

His lips formed into a trembling smile. "This is the best moment of my life."

Then he fired his last cluster bomb. Skywarp had no time to cry out before the bomb's casing broke apart and a dozen bomblets converged on him like a swarm of kamikaze hornets. The Decepticon went down amidst a cascade of flashing _booms_. Starscream broke into a convulsion of cackling laughter.

"I win! I win!"

"No you don't," came a strangled voice.

Starscream's cackles of glee ceased abruptly, replaced by a cold lump. He raised his head and met Skywarp's glaring optics through the flames dancing out of his torso. The black Seeker looked like the target at a shooting range. His wings were nothing but shredded tassels of metal. Bare circuitry was sparking in his chest. Energon leaked from every hole. But even as Starscream watched the other mech snarled and slowly drew himself up onto all fours.

"Stop!" Starscream snarled. "Lay down and die!"

"Make me," Skywarp hissed.

Desperately Starscream tried to move his arms and one responded—_not_ the one with the working turret. He reached over and tried to pluck off his good turret, but it seemed fused to his shoulder. Skywarp had managed to raise himself into a sitting position. The Decepticon smirked as he raised his shaking arm and pointed his turret directly at Starscream's chest.

"This is going to be the best moment of _my _life."

Starscream tore desperately at the stuck turret, and there was a painful crack as it broke free. He hurled it like a javelin into Skywarp's chest. _Crunch! _ Skywarp screamed, but Starscream didn't see what happened next because the other's laser bolt bit into his wing at point blank range. The battered metal triangle exploded into a firework of shrapnel that sank in his intake. A howl of pain ripped out of him, and for a moment his vision hazed into static.

When it flickered back he found himself staring vacantly into the faces of his friends. He realized distantly that Decepticons and Autobots alike had gathered around to watch the final moments of the fight.

"C'mon, Starscream!" Spike urged.

"You can do it, Starscream!" Bumblebee cried.

"Get him, Skywarp!" Thundercracker shouted.

"Finish the puny Autobot!" Megatron roared.

Starscream heard a groan from Skywarp's direction. _Impossible!_ he thought in disbelief. Yet over the screaming of the crowd, he could hear the ominous grinding of gears as the Decepticon tried to move. Starscream braced his functional arm underneath him and pushed, but something in his elbow snapped and gave way, plunging him back to the ground. The jolt loosened some vital connection and he felt the string of consciousness fraying to a single thread.

"Do it for Ms. Buckrinia, Screamer!" he heard Jazz shouting distantly.

"Do it for me, Skywarp!" a femme screamed.

"Ms Buckrinia," Starscream whispered, her face hovering in the blackness. She was studying him. Would he make a weak husband or a strong one? She was waiting to see. Suddenly he knew what he had to do.

His vision cleared, and ignoring Skywarp's agonized curses he rolled over on his side, biting back a cry as the remains of his shattered wing collapsed beneath him. He came to rest on his crumpled canopy. The change of position caused fire to sprout eagerly upwards, exploring new portions of his fuselage with burning fingers. He could feel hot energon sizzling out his chest.

From somewhere near his feet he heard the rasp of metal against sand, and knew that his time was running out. _Just a minute longer...! _Both his arms were useless now, but he knew how to get up without them. He began to gather his legs underneath him, pain ripping through his shrapnel-punctured intake as it was forced into the sand. Now he had his legs tucked beneath him. With a noise of pure anguished determination he drew himself up onto his knees.

At last he could see his opponent. Skywarp was lying flat on his back. Something had apparently gone wrong with his laser cannons, for he was trying to pull out the one Starscream had embedded in his chest. Starscream realized suddenly that it would be difficult to injure Skywarp without working arms. Skywarp seemed to realize it too, for a desperate giggle escaped him.

"Then I'll kick you to death," Starscream growled, and began to struggle to his feet. Skywarp swore and frantically renewed his efforts to pull out the projectile lodged in his chest—and it _was_ coming out, inch by inch. Starscream felt like he was raising up the world as he drew himself unsteadily to his feet. Cheers and howls went up, but he could spare no attention from the effort of remaining vertical. Already he could feel his knees threatening to buckle, his vision flickering, fuel pump failing, smoke (or was it darkness?) obscuring his vision—

"Yes!" Skywarp cried as laser cannon broke loose. He fumbled with the gun. Blackness closed in as Starscream drew back his foot in preparation to deliver the last kick he would ever make. He just needed one more second of consciousness! One more second and he could drive his foot into Skywarp's unprotected circuitry! One more second and he would win! ...And in that second he felt his leg give way beneath him, and then he was sinking into darkness...quietness...oblivion. His last conscious act was to fall on top of Skywarp.

* * *

_Must kill Skywarp! Must kill Skywarp! _ Starscream groped blindly for his opponent's neck. He felt something hard and scrabbled desperately to tear it apart.

"Hey!" a familiar voice shouted, and suddenly Starscream's optics came back online. He was trying to disembowel Ratchet. The medic slapped his hands away.

"Uh—what?" Starscream looked around, and found himself surrounded by a sea of grim faces. "Wha-What happened?"

"You tried to maim me," Ratchet growled.

"Sorry, I—oh no!" He too in the gloomy looks of the others and knew. He had lost! He had failed Ms. Buckrinia! He had failed the entire Air Command! His life was over!

A wretched groan wrung out of him, and he collapsed back on the repair table. "Euthanize me."

"Sit up," the medic ordered. "There's something you need to hear."

"Just take me offline."

Ratchet grabbed him by the intakes and heaved him into a sitting position.

"Alright, Screamer," Ironhide said, stepping forward. "Look, we know you tried your best to clobber ol' Skyskunk, so don't take this too hard. But I'm afraid you won."

Starscream's optics flickered uncertainly for a moment as he digested the meaning of the words. Then the whole room broke out in laughter and cheering. Suddenly there was confetti floating in the air and everybody was slapping him on the wings and punching him in the arm.

"You tricked me!" Starscream cried, but he was too relieved to be angry.

"Oh, you fell for it too," Silverbolt said, grinning. The Concorde placed a cube of energon into his hands and Starscream gratefully drew in a mouthful. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Wait, how did that happen?" he asked. "I blacked out."

"You knocked Skywarp cold when you fell on top of him," Silverbolt explained. "The Decepticons tried to call it 'a blow from beyond the grave,' but we showed them."

"We kicked Menasor's butt!" Air Raid shouted. Starscream couldn't help but laugh.

"Good work, Starscream," Optimus said, and Starscream felt a touch on his shoulder. He twisted around to find Optimus standing behind him.

"Thanks," Starscream said. Then, remembering what had happened, he murmured, "Are you still mad?"

"We'll discuss it later," Optimus said inscrutably. _So in other words yes, _thought Starscream. _Great, I won and I'm still in the slagpit._

"Prime. Megatron's on the viewscreen," Prowl said from the doorway. All heads turned to look at the tactician.

Starscream's smile died. If Megatron and Optimus talked, then Megatron would tell Optimus about the _real_ challenge. And if Prime found about the _real_ challenge...

"Tell him we're busy celebrating!" he cried.

"Tell Megatron we're busy celebrating," Optimus said bemusedly, and a snicker ran through the room. Prowl shook his head.

"He claims Starscream issued a second challenge to _him_."

One of Skyfire's more colorful spaceport expressions flashed through Starscream's head. Optimus slowly turned to look at him, his optics aglow with a silent question.

Starscream gave a little laugh. "Oh, about that...I was going to tell you but it slipped my mind. Anyway, it's okay, right? After all, I defeated Skywarp, so Megatron will be no problem."

"It is _not _okay," Optimus stated.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Starscream muttered. It was time to play his last card. "Okay then, I resign my commission. I am no longer under your authority."

There was dead silence. Starscream felt as if he could almost hear the deep grumblings of the volcano far, far beneath them as the magma forced its way upwards in preparation for a terrible eruption—

"I won't accept your resignation."

"You can't do that!"

"Can't I?"

"But it's not fair," Starscream blurted, raising his fists. "This is the only way I—"

Optimus held up a hand. The personification of calm reason, he said, "Starscream, I realize you want to impress Ms. Buckrinia. But if you lose to Megatron it will have consequences beyond mere loss of face. As you well know." Starscream pursed his lips angrily. He understood what Optimus was talking about—demoralization of the army, propaganda fodder for the Decepticons, public embarrassment for him—but it didn't matter. Not when Megatron was the last obstacle standing between him and his one true love. He tried to remember the arguments he had used to convince Optimus to let him fight Skywarp before. _Oh yes, I begged. _

"Please Optimus—"

"No. The discussion is closed." Without waiting for a response, Optimus pushed his way through the crowd and made for the door. Starscream sprang off the repair table and followed him into the corridor.

"I can beat him—all I need is a little luck and the chance to use my null ray—"

Optimus shook his head. "You don't know what kind of effect it will have on him. It may have none at all."

"You don't know that."

Optimus turned to him abruptly and Starscream had to rock back on his heels to avoid a collision. "No. But my decision stands."

"You don't understand what you're doing!" Starscream protested. "I could win! I just need a chance!"

"Go to your quarters. Stay there until I call you," Optimus ordered. "Jazz, accompany him."

Starscream watched helplessly as Optimus strode off. He saw all his hopes, all his dreams crumbling into ash and blowing away on the whimsical wind of Optimus' decision. He saw Ms. Buckrinia laughing at him when he knelt down and held out the golden bracelet to her. He saw himself alone and miserable for the rest of his life, never having so much as felt the touch of his beloved's hand. And suddenly he hated Optimus more than he had ever hated anyone before in his life.

"Come on," Jazz said, taking him by the elbow.

Starscream refused to budge. He stared at Optimus' retreating back, mind racing for something, anything to prevent him from calling off the fight. An idea hit him. He ripped his arm out of Jazz's grip and raced after Optimus.

"I want to be there—when you tell Megatron I can't fight!" He seized Optimus' arm. "You owe me that at least. I demand a chance to defend my reputation. Freedom is the right of all sentient beings!"

"Jazz?" Optimus said, ignoring him.

"If you don't let me defend myself I swear I'll never forgive you!" Starscream shrieked. "This will be the end of our friendship forever! Do you hear me?"

"You may go, Jazz," Optimus said. Starscream fell silent, and slowly he released his grip on the other's arm. Without looking at him, Optimus continued on to the command center. Starscream gritted figurative teeth and followed. He knew that he had just lost whatever vestiges of respect Optimus had left for him, but it was all or nothing now.

They entered at the command center and Prowl restored the visual feed. Megatron's face flared up on the main viewscreen. Skywarp was lounging indolently against the side of his chair. To shield his nervousness, Starscream deliberately smirked at his counterpart and gave a little wave. The black Seeker shot a baleful look at him.

"You didn't win," Skywarp snapped. "You were unconscious _before_ you knocked me out."

"Half conscious, actually. But whatever helps you recharge," Starscream said kindly.

"We are willing to concede a tie," Megatron growled, making Skywarp jerk. "But if there is a tie, then there must be a tiebreaker. Which leaves the question of where and when."

"I still say I won," mumbled Skywarp.

"There won't be any tiebreaker," Optimus said, stepping forward. "This contest is unequal; therefore I refuse it on behalf of Starscream."

Starscream glanced surreptitiously around the room. Optimus was standing in front of him, half blocking his view of Megatron. Prowl was standing slightly behind Optimus, his attention focused on the viewscreen. Starscream angled his body slightly to hide his next move from Prowl. Slowly he began to raise his hand.

"You refuse?" Megatron said. He leaned forward and smiled. "So Starscream is afraid."

"I'm not afraid," Starscream snapped, jerking his hand back down as Optimus turned to look at him. "I'll fight you whenever and wherever you want!"

"No, he won't," Optimus stated. "Starscream's courage is not in question, but the fairness of the proposed challenge is. So I repeat, I refuse it on his behalf." He moved for the viewscreen controls.

Starscream knew he had only a second to act. He raised his hand and flicked his fingers in rapid battlesign, _Tomorrow, dawn, in the glittering arena near here. Come secretly alone and— _The viewscreen went dark. Starscream thrust his hand behind his back and tried to look casual. He fancied he had seen surprised recognition in Megatron's face just before the transmission was severed. Or was it just surprise over the fact that Optimus had cut the exchange off so abruptly? Fretfully Starscream stared at the now empty screen, wishing he could have had just one more second to finish his sentence. Would Megatron even be able to figure out what the glittering arena was?

He turned to Optimus and adopted an amiable tone, "I hope I'm not still confined to quarters. I have a lot of planning—for my wedding—to do."

"I know exactly what you're thinking," Optimus said shortly.

"Uh...what?"

"Escape."

"What gives you that idea?" Starscream asked, relieved that Optimus hadn't noticed. "Ms. Buckrinia will see that I intended to fight Megatron. That will be enough for her. The point is that I was _willing_ to fight for her." He strained to make the lie convincing. Optimus nodded slowly, but his next words belied the gesture.

"It takes more than prowess in battle to win a heart. Even had you defeated Megatron, you wouldn't have changed Ms. Buckrinia's mind."

"Maybe if she were a femme from Cybertron," Starscream said, lifting his chin with a touch of pride. "But here on Earth a woman wants a mechanism who can club her enemies senseless. I've already defeated the number two Decepticon, which is more than any of Ms. Buckrinia's other wimpy boyfriends can say."

Optimus' optics widened slightly, but otherwise he betrayed no emotion. Finally he asked,

"When were you planning to ask for Ms. Buckrinia's hand?"

Starscream's face screwed up in bewilderment. "Why would I want her hand?"

"It's a human saying that means 'to ask someone to bind to you,'" Optimus explained.

"Oh, maybe tomorrow. Noonish," Starscream said with a shrug. "Whenever the wedding preparations are done." _And the repairs_.

"And who is going to bind you?"

"Since you obviously won't, I'm going to get someone else," Starscream said. "And if you think I'm going to tell you who it is so that you can try to convince them not to, then forget it. ...Which reminds me. Where's Skyfire?"

"He didn't come back," Optimus said.

"Good, then I can charge him with going AWOL as well as kidnapping me."

"I've already decided to pursue formal charges," Optimus stated. Starscream made a noise of indignation.

"If you're going to keep countermanding my decisions you might as well find yourself a new Air Commander." Then he added sarcastically, "...Oh wait, you won't let me resign. I forgot."

Optimus bent over to look him straight in the optics. Starscream rocked back on his heels. In a low tone, Optimus said,

"Don't make me regret my decision."

Starscream said nothing as Optimus drew himself back up, then wheeled and left the command center. Weighty silence descended, penetrated only by the hum of the computer banks. Prowl shook his head.

"You went too far."

"Thanks for the advice," Starscream snapped. "If you want me I'll be in the cafeteria."

"I'll come with you. You're still not allowed to move unsupervised."

"Optimus didn't say you had to go with me."

"He didn't say to leave you alone either."

Starscream threw up his hands. "Whatever. Come along if you want. I've got more important things to do than argue about technicalities."

"All you've been doing for the last week is arguing about technicalities."

"Only the important ones."

"This one is important."

"Fine!" Starscream stalked of the command center. "There's no reasoning with you!"

"I think you need to reevaluate your attitude. You're losing friends."

"I can't help it if everyone deserts me," Starscream cried. "Did I tell Skyfire to kidnap me? Did I tell Optimus to stand in my way at every turn? No, they just—"

The doors to the ribbon-bedecked cafeteria swished open.

"Surprise!" shouted Moonracer and two dozen Cybertronian Autobots. Starscream broke into a grin.

"Moonracer! You made it!"

"Hey, Screamer!" came an unpleasantly familiar voice. "We're baaaack!" The twins gave a cheery wave.

"Sideswipe? Sunstreaker? What are you doing here? I thought you were off on furlough," Starscream exclaimed. Sideswipe gave a mock-surprised look.

"What, you thought we were going to miss your wedding? Not a chance, kiddo."

"I had hoped—uh, well, anyway, I'll see that you get place cards." He turned back to Moonracer. "Where's everyone else? I expected two hundred."

"Communications blackout," she answered. "Staticpiercer could only get in touch with B and C sectors."

"Stupid Decepticons," Starscream sighed. "Oh well, I'm still happy. When did you get here?"

"Just about the time you finished kicking Skywarp's butt," Moonracer said with a smirk. "Hey, when do we meet the bride?"

"Tomorrow, if all goes well," Starscream promised.

"Can't wait."

"I can," said Sideswipe with a shudder. Starscream glowered at him, and Moonracer set her hands on her hips.

"Really, Sideswipe. That's rude."

"Yes it is," Starscream said, half-grinning. "Thank you for pointing that out, Moonracer."

Sideswipe just made a sarcastic noise. "She hasn't met Ms. Buckrinia yet."

"Sideswipe and Omega have been telling us outlandish stories about Ms. Buckrinia," Moonracer said. "And about you."

"They're all lies. I'll explain later," Starscream said, shooting Sideswipe a glare. "But later."

* * *

When everyone had been greeted and congratulations passed around, Starscream saw his guests to their quarters in the old cargo bay. It was only then that he had a chance to speak with Moonracer alone.

There had always been a certain understanding between them, though it had little to do with the fact that they were both professionals at the top of their fields. Rather, it was a tendency to giggle at each other's gossip and tease one another about whatever came to mind. One of Starscream's favorite things to tease Moonracer about was her habit of falling in love at the drop of a hat.

"You know what it feels like to fall in love at first sight," Starscream said, resting his elbows on the burnished conference table of the strategy room. He stared moodily at the shiny surface for a moment. At last he continued, "No one will believe me. They think I'm malfunctioning. Even Skyfire."

"I think the reason they don't believe you is that you didn't like her before," Moonracer ventured. "Sideswipe said you two used to hate each other, and Ms. Buckrinia still does."

"It's true," Starscream confessed. "I was a fool. An utter moron. I wasted my chance to win her heart, and when I realized my mistake it was too late."

Moonracer made a noise that was neither agreement nor disbelief. Not good enough. Starscream decided that a slight garnishing of the truth was in order.

"It's like this," he said steadily. "I always kind of admired her, even if I didn't like her. So, uh..." He trailed off with a shrug. "I—I don't know. Suddenly I just realized how silly it was for us to argue all the time. Last week when I finally told her the truth, it felt like something inside me just exploded. Even I was surprised at the time, but in retrospect I see that all along I wanted to impress her. Because...well, I loved her. All along I loved her, and I didn't know how to show it." He gave a weary sigh. "I—I just couldn't hold it in anymore. It wasn't love at first sight...it was...I just couldn't hold back any longer." He gauged the effect produced by the stammering and decided he liked it. "But _you_ believe me, don't you?"

Moonracer looked at him with glowing optics for a moment then reached out and gently touched his arm. "Of course. I know how it feels to fall in love better than anyone. Everyone says it's silly, but what do they know? We know what we feel."

"Thank you," Starscream said with genuine gratitude. "You don't know how much that means."

"No problem. So what can I do to help?"

"You can bind me."

"What?!"

"Optimus won't do it," Starscream hastened to explain. "But I need someone or else I can't get married."

"But I don't know how bind anyone," Moonracer protested.

"Don't worry, it's easy. You don't have to make a speech or anything—actually, that my job at the party later. All you have to do is recite the words in this ceremony." Starscream pulled out a datapad and gave it to her. Moonracer examined it and looked puzzled.

"My love for you is like a cloud—"

With a horrified cry Starscream snatched the pad from her hands and closed the poem. He handed the pad back.

"What that a poem for her? I think it sounded lovely," Moonracer said. "Have you shown it to Ms. Buckrinia yet?"

Starscream shook his head. "She's still not on speaking terms with me right now. I went to her house to give her a midnight serenade and well, it ended badly."

"What happened?"

"Remember when you sniped that guy who dumped you?"

'That was a Decepticon ambush!"

Starscream just gave a little snort. "Well, it was sort of like that, except I was the victim. But don't worry—she'll forgive me."

Moonracer shot him a dubious look. "What makes you say that?"

"Hope," Starscream said simply. "So will you bind me?"

Moonracer looked down at the datapad and studied it. Starscream waited. If she didn't agree, he would have to go to his emergency backup plan...which was shaky, to say the least.

"I guess it doesn't look too hard," Moonracer said cautiously. "But I see a problem—you outrank me."

Starscream shook his head, relieved. "This is a human ceremony. Rank doesn't matter."

"Well, alright... I suppose I'll do it."

Starscream beamed. "You're the best!"

Moonracer gave a lopsided smile. "Sure I am! Now what's this about a reception party?"

"Come on, I'll show you."

Starscream led Moonracer back to the cafeteria.

"We'll be holding the party in the messhall," he explained. "A human band and the Aerialbots will be performing for us."

"The Aerialbots? So _that's_ what that ghastly howling was. I thought the base was infested with ghouls. Either that or someone was being tortured."

"The latter," Starscream said, smirking. "The little retrorats made fun of my dancing."

"You _danced?_"

"It wasn't a pretty sight."

"I can imagine."

The doors to the messhall slid open, and Starscream recoiled.

The ribbons had been torn violently apart and were lying limply around the floor. The balloons had been popped, and the crystal chandeliers were smashed to pieces on the floor. Worst of all, the beautiful wedding cake was lying slumped on the ground, the layers skewed one upon another in a smear of frosting.

Starscream slowly stepped inside, staring around at the destruction. In a hushed voice, Moonracer asked,

"What happened?"

Starscream shook his head. "I don't know." Then he saw something by the wedding cake. He knelt down and peered closer. Smeared in the blue frosting was a heart with "SS+BK" written inside it. A pink "X" had been drawn over it.

"Sabotage!" Starscream hissed. He had known Skyfire was opposed to the wedding, but this...! This was just...! Who would have suspected that Skyfire was capable of such pettiness?

His face hardened. If Skyfire thought this would spoil his wedding, he was in for a surprise. He would redo it all—and make it better than ever. As for his "friend," Starscream would see that he found his way to a cell in the brig until it was all over.

"But who would do this?" Moonracer said quietly, gesturing around at the destroyed room.

"A very immature and vindictive person," Starscream said.

"But who?"

* * *

"Skywarp!" Megatron growled as Skywarp strode jauntily into the command center. "Where have you been?"

"I decided to go flying after I finished the mission," Skywarp said, deciding to affect a casual tone. "And yeah, I found the 'glittering arena.' It's just down the road from the Autobot base. Can't miss it."

"You missed our training session."

"Oh." Skywarp masked his satisfaction under a penitent expression. "Is it too late, then?"

"Yes, but we'll do it anyway."

Skywarp cursed silently. "Okay, just let me get cleaned up and I'll meet you in the training room." That would hopefully give him time to find Thundercracker and engineer a convenient emergency. Megatron just snorted.

"There will be no femmes to impress in the training room. Come on." Megatron strode out of the room, and Skywarp slunk after him. Wonderful. Now not only did he have to fight Megatron, but he had fight an annoyed Megatron.

The training room was an outbuilding located on the port side of sunken cruiser. Skywarp seldom had occasion to go there, but Megatron was a regular customer. On the rare events that Skywarp did visit the room, it was always at Megatron's behest, and it usually ended up with a few hours of being slammed around while Megatron gave him helpful advice on his technique.

"You see how important it is to keep one's skills honed to a fine point," Megatron began. "One never knows when one may be called upon to decide the fate of all Decepticons." _Yadda yadda yadda, hard work, focus, destiny, blah blah blah,_ thought Skywarp with a mental eye roll. "You almost defeated Starscream, but almost doesn't count. You should make a point of practicing weekly."

"Hey, I beat him," Skywarp said, though he knew it was better just to nod admiringly and pretend to have learned a valuable lesson.

"He had you at his mercy," Megatron snapped. "You're lucky his power gave out before he managed to deliver that last blow."

"I was just about to shoot him," Skywarp pointed out.

"'Just about' doesn't count either."

Skywarp made a noise of disagreement.

They entered the training room. One entire wall was taken up by a case of sabers, skewers, scimitars, swords and other sharp pointy objects. Another case held clubs, bludgeons, cudgels and other blunt objects. One final case contained guns. Skywarp made straight for it, but Megatron's hand constrained him.

"No, Skywarp. My challenge with Starscream will be hand to hand. We fight unarmed."

Skywarp felt like giving a long moan, but instead he pointed out, "Starscream won't agree to those terms. He knows the only way that he can possibly beat you is with his nullray."

Megatron lifted his chin and gave a gravelly laugh. "Perhaps, Skywarp, perhaps. But I think he will agree. There's no fool like a fool in love."

Skywarp had the distinct feeling that Megatron was including him in that statement. That reminded him of Disharmony—she had actually shouted "Get him Skywarp!" during the battle. _She's beginning to like me,_ Skywarp thought excitedly. _I'll ask her to dinner when this is over. _

"Are you ready?" Megatron asked. Skywarp nodded and dropped into a combat crouch. "Then let us begin!"

Megatron swung a fist at him and Skywarp threw up his arm to block it. He brought his other arm around, intending to punch Megatron in the face. As Skywarp had predicted, the maneuver failed utterly. Like lightning Megatron caught his fist, twisted his arm, and forced him towards the ground. Skywarp gave a cry of pain as he was pinned to the deck. He grabbed ineffectually at Megatron's arm, trying to loosen his grip. Megatron crushed his face into the deckplates.

"What did I tell you about breaking the lever lock?" Megatron said sternly. "You've gotten sloppy."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," Skywarp gasped. "Okay, you can let me up now." Megatron slowly released him and Skywarp clambered to his feet. Then he noticed Megatron examining his arm where he had grabbed at it.

"You're sticky," Megatron accused.

"Hey, I am!" Skywarp said, feigning surprise. "Maybe I had better go and clean up."

"Explain!"

"Maybe it was glue or something."

Megatron looked ready to kill. "How many times have I told you, _no more practical jokes! _Ever!"

"I quit that a long time ago," Skywarp lied. "It was just a suggestion. Maybe it wasn't glue."

"Then what was it?" Megatron demanded.

"Uh...well, good question. I'll let you know if I find out."

"Think about this, Skywarp—we'll keep training until you come up with an answer."

Skywarp grinned weakly. "Bring it on."

* * *

Three hours of training later, he finally broke.

"It must have been the cake!" he yipped as Megatron attempted to transform him into something other than a jet.

"Cake?"

"Starscream's wedding cake! I wanted to get back at him for...uh...tieing with me, so I—"

Megatron roared, "You went into the Autobot base alone?" Skywarp just nodded contritely. Better not to mention that Rumble had come along. "I told you to find the 'glittering arena,' not to get captured!"

"I was just going to teleport out if I got in trouble," he said. "Anyway, Laserbeak goes in there all the time. And I made sure that—"

"I have an fool for an Air Commander!"

"I got information. Starscream is getting bound."

At that Megatron paused. "Bound?"

"The base was all decorated and everything. Oh, and I squished Starscream's wedding cake." Actually, he had thrown it at Rumble. Unfortunately he had missed. The runt had fast little legs.

"In spite of your juvenile foolishness, you have uncovered valuable information," Megatron said, sounding slightly mollified. Skywarp gave a tentative smile and squirmed free. "So Starscream's affection is not a passing fancy."

"No, it's the real deal all right," Skywarp assured him, rubbing his sore arm. "By the look of it, the binding's gonna be in the next couple days."

"So that's why Starscream is disobeying Prime. I knew it had to be more than wounded dignity."

"Can't look like a timid zapmouse in front of your fiancée," Skywarp offered.

Megatron's lips twisted into a predatory smile. "And Ms. Buckrinia's house is next to the arena?"

"Within shooting distance," Skywarp said. "But you don't think Starscream is going to fight with her right there next to him, do you?"

Megatron laughed. "Skywarp, if there's one thing _you_ should understand, it is never, ever to underestimate the stupidity of a lovestruck mech."

Skywarp just scowled and crossed his arms. Then he remembered his maybe-possibly-hopefully dinner with Disharmony and felt a little better. Maybe he could even get her to sand out his scratches. The ghost of a smile crossed his face.

"Hey, now that we're done I just remembered something really important I've gotta do." And before Megatron could raise an objection, he flashed away.

* * *

"This isn't over, Skyfire," Starscream muttered. "This isn't over."

He punched out Paprika's number on Teletraan's keyboard and got an answering machine. He swore. They had been able to fix almost everything—the ribbons, the place settings, the serving table, even the chandeliers—but there was one thing that couldn't be fixed: the cake. He had decided to save it for last, thinking that it would be all the fresher for being baked closer to the wedding. What he had overlooked was that the people who were supposed to create the cake would all go home at quitting time. And now, at the human equivalent of 2 AM, it was too late. Even Paprika was fast asleep, blissfully unaware that disaster loomed on the morrow. Starscream had called up all two dozen local bakeries and gotten nothing but answering machines. He cursed Skyfire again.

"What are you gonna do?" Moonracer asked, looking uncomfortable at the abuse being heaped upon the AWOL jet.

Starscream gave a bitter laugh. "The only thing I can do. Bake it myself."

"But you don't know how to cook!" Bumblebee exclaimed.

"Sure I do," Starscream said. "I even published a paper on it in _Xenology_."

"But have you ever done it?" Bumblebee persisted.

"Lots of times. It's perfectly easy, if you just follow the recipe. And a recipe should be easy to find." Starscream did a search through the Teletraan database.

He soon found what he was looking for.

_Love Dough - A Hundred Sweet Wedding Cakes  
Elegant Frosting  
The Way to His Heart  
__ Pottery, Dough, and Raisins: The Natural Wedding Cake  
One Hour Wedding Cakes_

He seized eagerly upon the last title. Teletraan's screen flashed to show a book cover with a picture of a three tier cake.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Moonracer murmured.

"Oh, what could go wrong?" Starscream said. "Bumblebee, go get a table. A big one."

"Now I've got a bad feeling too," Bumblebee said, but he complied.

Starscream turned back to the console and began scrolling through the book. He soon found the five recipes he needed: vanilla cake, chocolate cake, lemon cake, cheesecake and carrot cake. _Elegant Frosting_ had a recipe for fondant, but there seemed to be no guidance on how to produce it in a buttercream flavor. In _Pottery, Dough, and Raisins _he discovered out that he didn't need to use sugar flowers—real ones worked even better. He could think of no way to reproduce the luster dust, and reluctantly gave up on it. _Maybe I can make up for it with LEDs. _

Bumblebee came in hauling a table.

"Is this good enough?" the yellow bug asked.

Starscream nodded. "Now go grab the humans' oven. And all their eating implements. Bowls, cups, plates, spoons, knives, the works. We'll need five copies of each, and they'll have to be enlarged with Perceptor's doohickey. But leave the oven alone—we'll shrink the cakes before we put them in to cook."

"I don't think Spike and Sparkplug will like us borrowing all their stuff," Bumblebee cautioned. "Think of all the dishes they'll have to wash."

"Then don't wake them up. We'll clean everything when we're done and they'll never even know the difference."

"Oookay." Bumblebee raced off again.

Starscream opened his comm. "Beachcomber, report to the command center." As if materializing from thin air, Beachcomber appeared in the doorway. "Where did you come from?"

"The universe has aligned your need and my presence," Beachcomber explained.

"Oh," Starscream said. Then, because he couldn't think of anything else, he added, "Sort of like the invisible hand of the market, huh?"

"Except for the greedy, polluting corporations defiling nature."

"...Anyway, we're in trouble," Starscream said. "I can't a find a baker, so I'm going to make my own wedding cake."

"Dude."

"My feelings exactly. So I need you to go shopping. Here's a list." Starscream selected the recipes and uploaded them to a datapad. "Be back in twenty minutes, and be sure to drive slowly past Ms. Buckrinia's house. I don't want her sweet sleep disturbed."

"No problemo." Beachcomber transformed.

"And may the force be with you," Starscream added quickly.

"Always is, man, always is." Beachcomber drove out.

Starscream leaned his elbows on Teletraan's console and studied the recipe for buttercream. "I wonder how big a stick of butter is supposed to be?"

"Butter? What's that?" Moonracer asked.

"Butter is a popular snack spread and ingredient for much human cooking," Starscream explained. "They collect secretions from the mammary glands of domesticated bovids, then they agitate the secretions until fat—a form of natural grease—begins to precipitate. The precipitate is then mixed with sodium chloride crystals and dyed yellow, and you eat it." Starscream grinned at Moonracer's look of revulsion. Offhand he added, "The dye is to make it look appetizing."

"Pardon me while I blank my memory."

"Better not! You might just have to collect bovid secretions before the night is through," Starscream said, laughing.

Before he could explain how to milk a cow, Bumblebee returned with a bin full of supersized cooking utensils and an oven tucked guiltily under his arm.

"We're really gonna wash these before we give 'em back, right? Spike just hates washing dishes."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of everything," Starscream assured. "You weren't caught, right?"

"Of course not," Bumblebee said, sounding a little affronted. "Despite the fact that Carly was up late working on her thesis."

Starscream gave an apologetic smile. "Silly me. Okay, since you're such a good helper, I'm going to give you first pick. Would you like to make vanilla cake, chocolate cake, lemon cake, cheesecake or carrot cake with chopped walnuts?"

"Me, bake?" Bumblebee protested. "But I'm a spy—not a chef."

"We all must rise to meet new challenges if we are to push our limits to the stars," Starscream said, glibly combining a fortune cookie Spike had gotten and one of Optimus' stock inspirational cliches. "So what'll it be?"

"Which is easiest?"

"Probably the vanilla."

"I'll take that then."

Starscream tsked. "No sense of adventure. How about you, Moonracer?"

"Hmm...How about chocolate?"

"A true femme. Now I need to find some more eager helpers. Let's see, Slingshot and Air Raid have never cooked before. This will be a good learning experience for them."

"You still haven't forgiven them, have you?" Moonracer said.

Starscream smirked and depressed the intercom switch. "Slingshot and Air Raid, report to the command center for a maintenance briefing." He keyed off the intercom. "Now, let's get everything set up. First, we need to preheat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit."

Bumblebee held up the cord attached to the end of the stove. "But we don't have an outlet."

"There should some extension cords in Wheeljack's workroom."

Bumblebee trotted out again, and Starscream laid out the enlarged cooking utensils on the table. There were an assortment of pots and pans and fragile glass dishes. He found what looked like a stirring spoon and a mixing bowl and put them aside. Then he opened the oven door and peeped in. "Great. It's covered with black charred stuff. Don't humans bother to maintain anything?"

"Maybe it's supposed to be like that," Moonracer suggested.

Starscream shook his head. "I've seen ovens in commercials. They're supposed to be shiny and smell like lemon. Although what's so appealing about the smell of citric acid, I don't know."

"What's this about acid?" came Slingshot's voice from the doorway. The harrier's pumpkin orange face was wary, though his visor was impassive.

"Ah, the maintenance mech is here," Starscream greeted him. "Take a look at this oven. It's covered with burnt stuff." He handed it over to the white and red-black Aerialbot, who stared inside.

"What you need is some oven cleaner...is this what the maintenance briefing is about?"

"Not exactly. Haven't you always wanted to learn how to cook?"

Slingshot stared. "Aw, you're kidding me. You want me to bake your wedding cake, don't you?"

"Such a quick learner," Starscream said with a pleased grin. "Now would you prefer to make lemon cake, cheesecake, or carrot cake with chopped walnuts?"  
Slingshot backed towards the door. "Starscream, I'm in the middle of some really, really important chores for Silverbolt—"

"Oh no you don't! You're not going to desert me in my hour of need. Or would you rather have some more practice time with the wing whistles, because I can certainly arrange that—"

"Okay okay! I'll help!" Slingshot said. "Uh...cheesecake."

"Wise choice. Now, your first task is to go outside and find some sticks. Preferably clean ones."

Slingshot looked bewildered. "For firewood?"

"No, silly. We're going to smear butter on them. The 'stick of butter' adds texture and fiber to the cake. Very appetizing—to a human."

"That's gross," Slingshot said.

"Yes. Now go get some pine boughs."

Slingshot trudged out. Starscream turned back to Teletraan and tuned to Beachcomber's frequency. The screen changed to show the dune buggy driving slowly past Ms. Buckrinia's house. Then Starscream saw something that made him gasp. There was a light behind one of Ms. Buckrinia's brand new argon-filled triple pane windows!

"My beloved!" Starscream breathed.

"Uh...repeat that?" Beachcomber asked.

"Nothing," Starscream said, but his optics glowed. In just a few short hours he would go to the engagement ring and fight for her. She would awake to the sounds of battle and rush out to see him deliver the coup de grace to Megatron just as the sun broke over the trees. As she stood there in awe, her heart throbbing with newly awakened passion, he would fling himself on his knees and hold out the golden bracelet to her. Then he would recite his love poem and propose, and she would joyously accept.

The wedding would be that afternoon. It would be a beautiful day and Moonracer would play her part flawlessly. Prime and everyone else would finally see how mistaken they had been, and Skyfire would come back and apologize. The Decepticons would curse the day as the turning point that led to their defeat.

But he and Ms. Buckrinia would live happily ever after, and when the cake and the energon were eaten they would fly off on a wonderful honeymoon to Hawaii, or Paris, or Monacus. He would spend weeks with Ms. Buckrinia, watching sunsets together, eating the finest foods, and gazing deeply into her dewy eyes between long, fervent kisses.

"Starscream? Are you there?"

The dream broke, and his smile vanished. "Oh—yes! Uh, I just wanted to ask you to pick up some oven cleaner while you're at the store."

"No can do, Screamer," Beachcomber replied. "That's stuff environmentally unfriendly. You wanna destroy the ozone layer?"

"I'm all for it if it means getting this cake baked."

"Not happening."

"Beachcomber, this is my wedding! Can't you just once forget about the stupid ozone hole?"

"No way, dude. I buy green or I don't buy at all."

Starscream made a noise of frustration. "Fine! If you will get me just one can of oven cleaner—just one—I will personally see to it that the ozone hole gets plugged. Right now I just need the oven cleaner. Okay?" There was a long pause. Then, reluctantly, Beachcomber said,

"Deal."

Starscream cut off the channel. "Great. One more problem to solve." He turned back and began organizing the cooking utensils into five sets.  
"Do you even know how to plug the ozone hole?" Moonracer said dubiously.

"Sure, I'll just use a giant cork!"

"What's going on?" came Air Raid's voice from the doorway. The red and white F-15 always seemed to Starscream to be carrying his black alt mode on his back like a rucksack. Air Raid came in and gazed with interest at the pots and bowls. "Whatcha doin'?"

"First I'm baking a cake, then I'm fixing the ozone hole, and then I'm planning on discovering the grand unifying theory of physics. If I've got time left over I'll eliminate poverty, war, and hunger," Starscream said.

Air Raid looked at him blankly. "What?"

"Nevermind. There is no maintenance briefing. You're helping me bake a cake. There's a deadline."

"Me, bake? You crazy?"

"Psychotic. Now would you rather make lemon cake or carrot cake with chopped walnuts?"

Air Raid smiled nervously at him. "Uhm, gee that sounds like fun. I've always wanted to bake. But unfortunately I'm rather busy at the moment..."

"That's fine. You can go out and practice some more with the wing whistles."

"What's the difference between lemon cake and the carrot cake with chopped whatchamacallems?"

"One smells like oven cleaner and the other smells like roots and oak tree seeds."

"I guess I'll take the oven cleaner one then."

"Here's the recipe. Familiarize yourself."

Starscream read through the recipes one last time and wondered if it was even possible to finish them all in one night. It had been a long time since he had baked last, and he had only the most passing familiarity with human techniques.

And then there was the problem of his upcoming fight with Megatron. He still didn't even know how he was going to escape the base. His original plan had revolved around some vague notion of grabbing someone's gun and shooting his way out, but even if by some miracle he escaped damage, the other Autobots would still chase him straight to the arena. Megatron would probably think it was a trap and run for it, and things would be even worse than ever. _I need a new plan,_ he thought for the umpteenth time. But he had been wracking his mind all day, and he still had no idea what he could do. _Ugh. It can't get any worse. _

There were footsteps in the hallway and Starscream looked up, expecting to see Slingshot or Beachcomber returning. Instead, Sideswipe sauntered in, flanked by his partner in crime. Starscream groaned inwardly. _Now _things couldn't get any worse.

"Hey, Screamer!" Sideswipe said, grinning. "Whatsup?"

"Nothing you'd be interested in. Why don't you go polish something?"

Sideswipe shrugged. "Can't. I'm on furlough."

"Then what are you doing here? Don't you have somewhere else you'd rather be?"

"Nah. The only reason we're back at all is 'cause we didn't want to miss your big day." Sunstreaker and Sideswipe snickered.

"Well, go chortle somewhere else. I'm busy."

"Want help?" Sideswipe asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll mess everything up somehow, that's why."

"Awwww," Sunstreaker said piteously. "We wouldn't do that. We just want to help our dear old buddy Starscream connect the circuit, that's all."

"Ha! You're here to make mischief, just like you always are."

Sideswipe managed a passable imitation of Bambi. "Didn't we help you get Ms. Buckrinia a new car? Didn't we help you beat Prowl? We want to be a part of this."

Starscream pointed at the door and was just about to order them away when a thought struck him. "Well...Maybe you _can _help. I wanted to arrange a wedding day surprise for Ms. Buckrinia. You're good at surprises, right?" He smiled, then turned to Moonracer. "Excuse us a moment. Confidential meeting."

He led the twins out into the hallway, then down into the conference room. Before saying anything he made a point of carefully checking that the recorder was off. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe glanced at each other, exchanging a silent alert signal. Starscream rubbed his palms together, wondering how to begin. He had to play this just right.

"The Decepticons must be having a good laugh at our expense right now."

"What do you mean?" Sunstreaker asked, regarding him suspiciously.

"You must admit we looked pretty lame calling off the challenge like that."

"Oh. So that's what you wanted help with. Forget it," Sunstreaker said flatly.

Starscream held up his hands in defense. "Alright, if you don't care that they think we're cowards, then I don't either. Let's go back and get cooking." He strode for the door, reached for the controls.

"Waaaait a sec," Sideswipe said. "Just what were you planning, anyway?"

Starscream dropped his hand slightly and glanced back. "If you're not interested, you don't need to know."

"Let's suppose I'm interested but sitting on the fence?" Sideswipe offered, holding out his hands. "I'll hear you out."

Starscream gazed at the other mech with deliberate skepticism, but mentally sized him up. Was Sideswipe just playing along to get him to show his cards, or was it real interest? The twins were expert actors. He had to tread lightly.

"Think about it," Starscream said carefully. "If Megatron beats me, he'll get no glory from it. But if I defeat him he'd never hear the end of it."

"Yeah, but I see a problem," Sunstreaker said, crossing his arms. "Which is, every scenario I can think of where you fight Megatron ends up with you as a smoking crater."

"Didn't I beat Prowl? Didn't I beat the Aerialbots?"

"By cheating."

"Precisely," Starscream said with a tight smile. "By cheating."

The twins' mouths formed into silent 'o's.

"But Optimus would have our heads," Sideswipe exclaimed. "And other vital parts of our bodies."

"Optimus isn't going to know. And if he did find out, your names wouldn't come into it."

Sideswipe made a doubtful noise. "Look Starscream, I'd like to help, but—"

"Megatron cheated Optimus the last time we had a contest. Do you want to let him get away with that, or do you want to pay him back?"

"Of course I do, but—"

Starscream pressed on. "Anyway, who's to say Megatron wouldn't try to cheat again? We'd only be giving him a taste of his own medicine."

"Starscream..."

"This is a personal contest between me and him. Optimus' honor doesn't even come into it at all."

"But Optimus said—"

Desperate, Starscream played his last card. "I knew it! You're scared."

"Oh come on, you know that's nonsense!" Sideswipe snapped.

Starscream sneered. "Next time I need help I'll go to Brawn and Cliffjumper when I need help. Now if you'll excuse me—" He took a step towards the door, and his reached out for the button.

"Hold it!" Sideswipe blurted. Starscream turned back impatiently, his finger still hovering over the control. "Just tell me one thing, alright? Can you actually beat Megatron?"

Now it was do or die time. "Yes. And here's how." Starscream gathered himself up and began, "Did you hear about how I constructed the engagement ring?"

"I heard you bought exotic soils from three continents." The look of wariness in Sideswipe's optics increased.

"I was very particular about what I bought, and who I bought it from. In fact, many of the fills I bought were not soils at all, but specialty mixes of synthetic ingredients."

"Get to the point."

"When mixed together in the proper proportions—and I assure you, they are—these synthetic ingredients undergo a rapid, vigorous reaction. An _explosive _reaction."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's mouths fell open in perfect unison.

"Are you saying the engagement ring is a—a—"

"A bomb."

Sideswipe shook his head, staring. Finally he said, "Smoldering slag, Starscream. I'm sure glad you're on our side."

Starscream simply nodded, pleased. He pulled out a chair and sat down, motioning to the twins to join him. They did so, and he knew that they were his—for now.

"So here's the plan. I've scheduled a solitary engagement with Megatron later tonight. We'll meet at dawn—6 AM human time. When he steps onto the ring, I fire into a particular stone that is actually a ball of explosives mixed with sand and gravel. The bomb goes up, boom, I win. It's that simple." He waited for their reaction, hoping that the lie sounded convincing. Defeating Megatron by cheating would be like cheating Ms. Buckrinia of her heart, but there was no reason the twins had to know that.

"That's it?" Sideswipe asked. "Where will you be when it explodes?"

"A good distance away, I hope."

"What if Megatron fires into it first?" Sunstreaker said.

"That won't happen."

"What's the blast radius?"

"20 meters."

Sunstreaker shook his head. "That's cutting it close."

"I didn't want the explosion to blow out Ms. Buckrinia's windows. Again," Starscream explained. "The way it's arranged now it'll go straight up. And up, and up, and up. Megatron will be 100% _dead_."

Sideswipe was frowning now. "So what's our part in this?"

"I need the rectifier chip for my nullrays back. I need some high grade aviation fuel jumped up with combat additives. And I need to escape from this base without anyone knowing I'm gone."

"Oh is that all?" Sideswipe said flippantly.

"No. I also need you to go with me for backup. But Megatron can't know you're there."

Sideswipe stared meditatively at the table. "And ideas, bro?"

"I have two ideas." Sunstreaker leaned forward and held up two fingers. "The first idea costs fifteen days of furlough. The second one costs unlimited supplies of imported European paint, wax and polish delivered to us here on a weekly basis."

Starscream barked a laugh. "That's outrageous! How can you even think of making your own Air Commander compensate you for helping him destroy the enemy?"

Sunstreaker was unmoved. "Fair pay for fair work is what I'd call it. And considering that we're using up our furlough and putting our chassis on the line with Prime, I'd say it's a pretty good deal."

"Your price is absurd. I wouldn't give that much furlough to you if you destroyed Darkmount itself," Starscream declared. "Two days of furlough for the first idea, and four for the second. And consider yourselves lucky I'm paying you at all."

"Forget it," Sunstreaker said, pushing back his chair. "The deal's off."

"What deal?! This is nothing but pure blackmail!" Starscream exclaimed. "Do you know how much it'll cost to get that stuff from Europe? I can do Florida, but not Europe. And fifteen days? Why not a hundred? Or a thousand? I'm not a miracle worker you know!"

"Europe or nothing. Oh, and throw in a couple sets of new tires for Sideswipe and me too."

Starscream stood up and leaned over the table menacingly. "I could have you shipped off to mine energon on Rura Penthe. Do you know where that is? It's very cold and very lonely and no one you know has ever heard of it."

Sunstreaker carelessly examined his finish. "I guess you don't love Ms. Buckrinia as much as I thought you did. Ah well, not my problem."

"How dare you question my love for her!" Starscream cried. "I would die for her sake! Ten days of furlough. Specialty touch up supplies from Europe, paint from Florida. _One _set of new tires for each of you."

"Thirteen days of furlough, paint _and _specialty supplies from Europe, and two sets of tires apiece."

"How do I even know these ideas will work?" Starscream demanded. "Let's hear them first."

"First we agree on the price."

"Give me a hint."

"No."

Starscream slammed himself back down in his chair and glowered at Sunstreaker. "This is flagrant, unpatriotic extortion. I never thought I would see you stoop so low."

Sunstreaker stared at him impassively.

"Cool," said Sideswipe.

"This is my final offer," Starscream gritted out. "Twelve days furlough. Paint from Florida, specialty supplies from Europe. Two sets of tires. Take it or leave it."

"Two sets of tire apiece?" Sunstreaker said suspiciously.

Starscream muttered a curse. "Yes. Apiece."

"Make it thirteen days."

Starscream slapped the table. "Done." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker smiled victoriously and exchanged a high five.

"You rock, bro," Sideswipe said.

"It's so true."

Starscream folded his arms and growled, "I'm still waiting to hear little Miss Sunshine's expensive, European ideas."

"Starscream, if you ever call me that again, I'll kill you," Sunstreaker said.

"Then let's hear your ideas. I don't have all night."

"Idea number one. Air Raid locked in his F-15 Eagle mode with a jammed comm. He's colored silver, blue, and red and parked out by the main highway. You're hiding in a storeroom, where you can go wherever you like."

Starscream nodded appreciatively. Why hadn't _he _thought of that? "And idea number two?"

"Moonracer thinks you're hot. You should ask her out when you get your sanity back."

"_What?_"

"You didn't notice how she's always following you around, oggling you?"

"I'm going to marry Ms. Buckrinia!" Starscream howled. "And I am not paying a thing for that—that—idiotic idea!"

"Too late, you already agreed," Sunstreaker said smugly. "Now is the deal still on or do I go straight to Optimus and tell him you've got an appointment with the Decepticon leader at 6 AM?"

Starscream stood and snarled, "You two are the most infuriating, treacherous little retrorats—"

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker began to laugh. Choking down his anger, Starscream spat, "Very well! The deal is on. And I expect full results or I'll go to Optimus and reveal _your _role in this plan in intimate detail!" Sunstreaker said nothing, just looked amused. Starscream hissed, "And for your information, Moonracer sees me as her friend and comrade in arms! Nothing more!"

"Sure," Sunstreaker said, still smirking. "Just tell that to her. But getting back to the point, when you want Air Raid to 'escape'?"

Starscream threw himself back into his chair, disgusted. "I'll need time to install my weapons and get out to the ring. Make it 5:40."

"We'll need the passcode to your quarters," Sunstreaker said.

"Why?"

"'Cause we're gonna cut a hole through your floor and hide it under your recharge unit. Can you figure out a way to get Air Raid into your quarters and then stun him? We'll leave your rectifier chip somewhere you can find it."

Starscream thought a minute, then said, "Put it behind my printer. I can pretend to be checking the cords and then palm it."

"We'll bring your cluster bombs and the paint for Air Raid to the storeroom underneath your quarters at 5:30 sharp."

"Which leaves the little problem of how to get Air Raid out of the base, since he'll be stunned senseless," Starscream pointed out.

"We'll get him out and stash him somewhere good. Some dingbat will probably mistake him for Skywarp or Thundercracker. Then while everybody is trying to sort it out, you escape out the top of the volcano. We'll follow you to the engagement ring as soon as we can."

"But how are you going to get Air Raid out of the base?"

"That's need to know information. And you—"

"Yeah yeah yeah." Starscream mulled the plan over. There were plenty of risks: What if someone caught him on his way out of the volcano? Suppose the twins weren't able to smuggle Air Raid out? What if they weren't able to procure his chip? He grimaced slightly. "Alright. Let's do it."

"Don't worry Screamer, we'll be behind you the whole way. Loyal to the death!" Sunstreaker said with a broad grin. "Unless of course Prime catches you. Then it's every mech for himself."

"How touching," Starscream said dryly. "Now if you'll excuse me I have a cake to bake. I'll see you at 5:30."

"You belong in the looney bin, Screamer. Just so you know," Sideswipe said.

"Just for that, Sunstreaker gets to be my best man!" Chucking to himself, Starscream walked out.

When he returned to the makeshift kitchen he was greeted by a chorus of questions.

"How much should I pack down the brown sugar?"

"Is this two pinches of salt?"

"Did I use enough butter on this stick?"

"As hard as you can, yes, and looks good to me," Starscream answered. He turned to the main monitor. "Teletraan, display the recipes for fondant and carrot cake." The computer obliged. Starscream eyed them, then decided to start with the fondant. _Fill cup with cold water. Add one teaspoon of unflavored gelatin..._

He found the measuring spoons and filled up a cup, then rummaged around in Beachcomber's shopping bags until he found the gelatin. He sprinkled a spoonful of it across the water's surface. _Wait two minutes for mixture to soften. _He waited impatiently for a moment, then decided he might as well get the carrot cake going. _Grate six medium carrots into mixing bowl._ He reached for a mixing bowl—and found himself touching Moonracer's hand. Starscream froze like a startled petrorabbit. _Oh no! Sunstreaker was right!_ Moonracer smiled and pushed the bowl towards him.

"Oops, that's yours isn't it? They're all alike, I thought that was mine."

"Y-yeah," Starscream said, grinning hard. "By the way, uh, I just wanted to say that you're a really good friend. And comrade in arms. What I mean is, I always enjoyed our camaraderie."

Moonracer gave him an awkward smile. "Uh...thank you?"

"Starscream, how do I get the egg of its shell?" complained Slingshot. Grateful for the distraction, Starscream took one of the eggs out of the carton and deftly smashed it on the table.

"There. Now just scrape that gooey stuff up and pick out the white pieces."

"Great," Slingshot muttered. "I'm going to go get some tweezers."

"Dump the white pieces in here," Air Raid said, indicating his mixing bowl. "My recipe says I only need the white part. Hey Starscream, what's an egg anyway?"

"In this case, it's an embryonic baby bird." Starscream replied. Air Raid looked horrified. "Barbaric, isn't it?"

"Starscream, what kind of grease should I use to coat the pan?" Moonracer asked. "The recipe doesn't say." She slid Beachcomber's datapad down the table and came to stand next to him, jarring his wing slightly. Her finger indicated the passage in question, but his optics didn't register the words.

"Uhhhhhhhhhh..." he said, angling away so that his wing did not touch her. Was this what Sunstreaker meant by 'oggling'? Starscream felt suddenly self conscious. Had she been doing this all along, and he hadn't noticed? _First Carly, now this! Has the world gone crazy?_

Then another thought occurred to him. If Moonracer did like him in _that _way, why had she agreed to bind him? Was this a pathetic last ditch effort to win him over? Or was it some kind of clever ploy? Did she intend to prevent the ceremony from going through in one final display of feminine spite?

"Uh...uh...Try 10-40, or something for colder weather," he muttered. "It's a heavier weight and it'll stick to the sides better."

Thoughts churning madly, he grated carrots into the bowl. The whole time he felt like Moonracer was staring at him. What was she thinking about? They said there was nothing so vindictive as a femme scorned.

Now to smear the cake pan with unsalted butter. He found the butter cubes—they reminded him of elongated energon cubes—and peeled off the wrapping. He took a little of the creamy white grease on his fingers and began to run it around the bottom, top, and sides of the circular pan. When it was nice and slippery, he set it down and read the next instruction. _Flour pan._ He frowned. What on Cybertron did that cryptic little message mean? After a moment of bafflement he decided, _Maybe I'm supposed to smear flour all over the pan too._ Deciding that must be it, he reached into the flour bag and extracted a handful of the fluffy white powder. He rubbed it into the butter. It reduced the slipperiness. Disgustedly he wiped his hands on a towel.

Two minutes had expired, and now it was time to heat up the gelatin. He put it on the hotplate he had borrowed from Wheeljack's lab and turned up the temperature. _Wait until gelatin dissolves._ He snuck a surreptitious glance at Moonracer, who was innocently stirring the gloop in her bowl. _How could I not have seen this coming? _he thought. _She's always hanging around the lab, pretending to be interested in what I'm doing. _

"Starscream, there isn't enough lemon pudding in this box," Air Raid said, holding up the box in question. "The recipe wants four oz, but this is only three. I've already mixed it in, so I think it's too late to duplicate it now. Should I have Beachcomber go back to town and get more?"

Starscream thought for a moment, then shook his head. "There's no time. Just give it a few spritzes of lemon-scented ozone killer to make up for the lost flavor."

"Good thinking." Air Raid sprayed a few blasts of oven cleaner into his mixing bowl. Starscream felt a momentary pang of sympathy for his trusting subordinate, but squashed it ruthlessly. _It'll serve him right for laughing at my dancing_.

The gelatin had dissolved. Now the recipe required one teaspoon of almond extract. Starscream carefully measured out the amount and dropped it into the bowl. He followed it up with a half cup of corn syrup and a tablespoon of glycerin, then stirred. Beautiful. It was slowly growing clear, just like the recipe said it should.

"Pass me the half cup measuring cup, would you?" Moonracer asked. Starscream took it, fumbled, dropped it and picked it up again. He handed it to her with a pasted-on smile.

"Sure. What are _friends _for?"

"Thanks pal," Moonracer said with a smile that was a little too sweet. It was the sort of the smile that said, "I'm planning to snipe you from behind a rock."

Without thinking Starscream pushed away the jug of milk to make room for the flour bag. _Scruklp! _Starscream froze, his hand growing cold on the jug. He knew, without looking, that the egg carton had fallen and was now lying upside down on the floor.

"Uh oh," said Bumblebee into the silence. Starscream bent down and looked under the table. The carton was bleeding milky-clear chicken embryos. His thought process moved step by step down the chain of disaster. No eggs, no wedding cake. No wedding cake, no wedding. No wedding, no Ms. Buckrinia.

He gave a cry of sheer frustration.

"What are we gonna do now?" Moonracer asked quietly. Starscream stared down at the mess. Could he scoop them up and somehow reuse them...? No. They were dirty now, at least by human standards. Unfit for consumption. Might as well be poisoned. And there was no time for Beachcomber to get more.

"We need more eggs, and a trip to the store is out of the question. Ideas?"

Tentatively, Bumblebee said, "I might know where to find some wild eggs. We could duplicate them so we wouldn't have to take the real ones from their mother."

"Where."

"I found some while driving out with Hound. But that was a week ago."

Starscream gave a short nod. "How long till you can be back?"

"Ten minutes, tops."

"Go!"

Bumblebee transformed and peeled out.

"Let's not wait for him to get back," Starscream said curtly. "Just skip the eggs for now and keep going. We can add them in at the end." As an example he dumped one and a half pounds of sugar into a second mixing bowl. The others began working again. _Make hole in sugar and pour in mixture._ He dug a little crater in the sugar and slowly poured in the now-clear liquid, then stirred until the mixture turned into a sticky morass. He slowly added more sugar and stirred it in until the stiffened mixture seemed to refuse it. Now came the nasty part.

Grimacing, he thrust his hands into the bowl and scraped out the gooey mixture. He dumped it on the table and formed it into a hunk. Expertly he began to knead. This was a skill he had acquired long ago, when he had learned to bake bread and make pottery during his exploration days. He had never liked kneading. It felt slimy, and the fondant was trying heroically to get into his finger joints. He added a little more sugar. The fondant now had the consistency of a smooth, white putty explosive. He anointed his thumbs with vegetable oil and massaged it into the mix. There, done. He tore off some plastic wrap and cocooned the ball of sugar, then squeezed it into a tupperware container.

"You're done, huh?" Moonracer said. With a laugh she said, "Ready to help _me?_"

_AAAAAAAAAGH!_ Starscream clenched his hands hard on the table and gave a maniacal grin. "I'm gonna finish up my carrot cake. Hand me those paper towels." He wiped off and tried to engross himself in the recipe.

Air Raid smirked. "I think Screamer's nervous about the wedding."

"Why would I be nervous?" Starscream snapped. He grabbed for the baking powder and knocked it over, sending a little jet of white powder spewing across the table. He uprighted it and poured some powder into a measuring spoon.

"Ooooh, he's nervous alright," Slingshot said, grinning.

"I'm not nervous," Starscream said tightly. "I'll have you know that tomorrow is going to be the happiest day of my life." He reached for the can of rootbeer-flavored baking soda and poured in one teaspoon of the brown liquid.

"I bet he has a big meltdown tomorrow morning," Air Raid said as he lathered butter over a stick. "Brawn says even brave mechs turn timid as petrorabbits on the night before their wedding."

"Not me."

"Brawn said the bravest mech he ever knew spent the night before his wedding pacing and fretting in his quarters."

At that Starscream gave a smug laugh. He knew exactly who Brawn was talking about. He could still remember Optimus pounding back and forth across the floor, then turning to him and quavering out worries about the ceremony, his lines, the guests, the bride, the reception, the speech...the speech? _The speech! _The allspice fell from his hand and rolled off the table. He had utterly forgotten about the wedding speech!

"Boy, you really are nervous, huh?" Moonracer said sympathetically.

"I forgot to write the speech for the reception banquet," Starscream groaned, reaching down to pick up the spice.

"That sounds bad," Air Raid observed.

"It'll just have to be an improv speech," Starscream said.

"Shouldn't be too hard," Slingshot said. He quoted, "'Here's to love, peace, and a bound life—at least two will be happy."

"See, that's why I didn't pick you as best man," Starscream said. Then he realized that whatever Sunstreaker had to say would be far worse. _Well_, he thought, _nobody ever said the best man _had _to give a speech_.

"Mm, so first you have to get up in front of all those people and make an _eternal _commitment to Ms. Buckrinia, and then you have to make an improv speech," Singshot said, seeming to savor the idea.

"I'll have you know I've gotten up in front of thousands of people and made improv speeches that were broadcast galaxy-wide to trillions of listeners," Starscream snapped. "This will be no different."

Moonracer laughed. "Riiiiight, Starscream. Giving a wedding speech will be no different than rousing the troops." He couldn't think of anything to say to that. Finally he demanded,

"So what's your advice then?"

"Well, if it were me, I'd want you to express your love for me in front of everybody. Just so they'd know." She beamed at him.

"Eheh," Starscream said, suddenly feeling weak. He seldom paid attention during bindings—they all sounded alike, and after awhile he always ended up planning out campaigns in his head while toasting and clapping automatically. Now he realized he didn't actually know what a good wedding speech was supposed to sound like.

"What else would you want me to say, hypothetically speaking?"

"Then, I'd want you to say how special our day was, and maybe tell how we met and why you're so happy to be bound to me."

"That's it?" he asked.

"And of course it should be a bit funny."

"I can be funny."

"I'm sure you will be," Air Raid said, chuckling. Starscream glared at him.

"It's not too late for me to rescind your invitation."

"I'm a groomsman, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, you're still replaceable," Starscream said. _Very replaceable._ He was feeling less and less guilty about leaving Air Raid out on the roadside as the night wore on.

Starscream measured out a quarter teaspoon of allspice. His hand quivered slightly as he poured it in; annoyed, he steadied it. _I am not going to let them give me nerves now. I have too many real things to worry about. How to beat Megatron, say. I've made speeches before. This will be easy. _He tried to envision the banquet, the crowd, and Ms. Buckrinia sitting at his side, dressed in white and looking radiant. Then he imagined himself expressing the depths of his love for her to everyone, and made the unpleasant discovery that he was unable to come up with a single word that didn't sound horribly cheesy. He wondered if he could make the speech boring enough that everyone would tune out and plot campaigns in their heads. But that would hardly be fair to Ms. Buckrinia.

He dumped in a quarter teaspoon of cinnamon, then a quarter teaspoon of nutmeg, then a half teaspoon of salt. Then he poured in white sugar and firmly packed brown sugar. (What was the point of adding two different colors of sugar?) The next thing he needed was three large eggs.

For the second time that night, the invisible hand of the market lent him its aid. Bumblebee roared in, screeched to a halt, then leapt up and triumphantly held out two handfuls of eggs.

"Got 'em! And, I think I set a new speed record. My tires are burning hot!"

"You've saved my wedding!" Starscream said gratefully. He took one of the already-enlarged eggs, then stopped and looked at it. It had a funny leathery feel. The shell was not hard and brittle, but had a slight give to it.

"Where did you get these?" he asked, wondering if they were any good.

"Hound swore me to secrecy," Bumblebee said, embarrassed.

"Okay." Starscream gave a little shrug and smashed the egg on the table. He examined it closely and smelled to see if it was rotten. It didn't, but amidst the shell fragments and goo there was a sort of coiled black rope. He took it and held it up by one end. The rope dangled limply, still attached to the table by a line of mucus. It seemed to have a head with curtained eyes.

"What's that?" Bumblebee asked.

"Looks like a snake," Slingshot ventured.

"Well, it doesn't look rotten to me," Starscream said, satisfied. He dropped the black creature in the bowl, then picked out the pieces of shell and scraped the rest of egg off the table and into the bowl.

"Are you sure it's okay to use snake eggs?" Bumblebee asked.

"An egg's an egg," Starscream said. "Anyway, these just might be bird eggs after all. 'Ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny.' That means that embryonic development means passing through several ancient phases of evolution. So maybe a snake is the ancestor of the bird, and this is a bird embryo that just happens to look like a snake at the moment. Isn't that fascinating?" He smashed two more eggs and scraped them up into the bowl.

"I'll take your word for it," said Moonracer dubiously, grabbing an egg of her own. Starscream stirred his batter and watched the bird embryos swim around in the mix. _Delicious_, he thought wryly. He was glad he wasn't a human and never had to consume anything more complicated than plain old normal energon.

"Oh, Starscream—I just remembered," Moonracer said. "For the speech. Be sure to toast the guests and complement the bridesmaids."

"What!" Starscream exclaimed. "With my wife right there?"

"Yeah, but don't worry, she won't mind. Think about it—all the bridesmaids will be thinking about getting married themselves today. They'll appreciate being told they're pretty. I always did."

Starscream abandoned his efforts to get a can of yogurt open and glared openly at Moonracer. The green femme was innocently wiping egg off her hands with a paper towel. If it hadn't been for Sunstreaker's keen optic, he would have never guessed that she was seething with jealousy underneath. _Why didn't she just tell me she was in love?_ he thought in exasperation.

"I'm sure they will," he muttered.

He was just going to have to tell her she couldn't bind him. But if he told her now, she would probably blow his head off. Or what if she tried to ruin the reception party like Skyfire had? ...Or had it been Skyfire after all? He peered carefully at Moonracer, sizing her up. Was she the one that had destroyed everything? Smashed the chandeliers, pushed over the cake, torn the ribbons? Could she really be that petty?

It was hard to believe. But then another revelation struck him. Suppose she was a plant? A double agent, working for Optimus to spoil the wedding from the inside—or at least, delay it until the VEX scan results came back? The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He could see Optimus asking for a volunteer to get close to him, gain his trust, and offer to do the wedding. Moonracer, insane with jealousy, would be the first to volunteer. Optimus would advise her to pretend that she alone believed that he was sane. She would empathize with him, pretend to care about his problems. And then, on the day of the wedding, she would dutifully stab him in the back. For his own good, or so everyone would say afterwards—once Ms. Buckrinia had dumped him. He clenched his jaw.

She had been too easy to convince, he could see that now. Perhaps she had even been leading the conversation without his knowledge. That was a common practice to get information out of Decepticon prisoners—give them a friendly cellmate and let them chat while the cellmate smiled and nodded and subtly directed the conversation to the size of the Decepticon's regiment and how well supplied they were and where they were stationed and who was in charge. Perhaps Moonracer had done that to him. Maybe she wasn't a malicious saboteur then, but merely a cat's paw for Optimus. Maybe she genuinely believed he was doing it for his own good. Optimus could be persuasive. Of course, she would be in for a hideous surprise when she found out that his love for Ms. Buckrinia was real... What would she do then? Cry? Get angry? Go dig a hole and bury herself forever?

He frowned, remembering how he had felt when Ms. Buckrinia rejected him. The thought suddenly made him feel sorry for her. It seemed cruel now to lead her on. Best to let her down now rather than drag it out for hours.

His hands nervously tore open the yogurt container and without conscious thought he spooned out six ounces and mixed it into the dough. How could he tell her he didn't love her, would never love her? He had no idea how to tell a femme something like that. _What if she hates me for life? What if she never speaks to me again? What if she tells all her friends that I'm a jerk? What if she tries to kill me?_

Starscream stirred mindlessly, trying to find words to convey what he was trying to say. A bit of dough went flying out of the bowl and splattered on Moonracer's shoulder.

"Hey, careful," she said, brushing it off. "I gotta look nice tomorrow."

Without thinking, Starscream blurted, "I just wanted to say that although I find you a reasonably attractive individual—on a purely aesthetic level—I cannot ever see us becoming romantically involved, for the reason that I intend to marry Ms. Buckrinia tomorrow."

There was pure silence. Moonracer stared at him as if he had just sprouted bug eyes and tentacles. It occurred to Starscream that perhaps he should have told Moonracer that he didn't love her in private.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I've found someone else to bind me. Sorry. Really."

"Uh, okay," Moonracer said. "Sure. That's fine. Did you, uh, think I liked you...?"

"Maybe, I don't know?" Starscream said with a nervous laugh. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay. We're just friends, right?"

"Yes! And comrades in arms. So you're not mad then?"

"No, of course not."

_What a good liar she is,_ a corner of his mind reflected, storing the information away for future reference.

"Good. I'm really, really glad," he said with a smiling grimace. "Now let's get this cake done with!"

_What do you know, there is something worse than dancing._ He seized the vegetable oil, glopped in six ounces and stirred ferociously. The snakes whirled under the lash of his spoon. Without looking up he seized the shredded carrots and threw them in, then grabbed the bag of walnuts. He chopped them until fragments danced with the blows of his knife. Then he dumped them in, stirred, and poured the batter in the pan. "Done! I've got to go do something. Air Raid, come with me. The rest of you, finish up the cakes and start frosting. If you have any questions, call me. When you get the oven cleaned out, put this cake in for 45 minutes on the middle rack. I'll be back to check in an hour."

Without looking back he raced out into the corridor. Once outside in the empty, quiet hallway he stopped. He turned to the nearest wall, gave a drawn-out wail, and beat his head against it. When he was done he looked at Air Raid and gave an expressive shudder.

"That was...awkard," said Air Raid. Starscream nodded with sickened agreement. He was glad that he was getting married tomorrow, if only so that he would never have to break up with another girlfriend again.

"What's going on?" came a female voice from below. Carly. Just what he needed. Starscream looked down and found her standing by his ankle. He had almost squished her.

"If you don't stop watching where I'm stepping, you're going to have to wear a bell around your neck," he threatened half-seriously.

"Sorry, I'll be more careful. What are you guys doing?"

"Just some last minute preparations. Why don't you get some sleep? You look like a racoon," he pointed to her darkly circled eyes and traced a big ring around his own optic.

"Hey!" she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I'll have you know you're no prince charming yourself. What is that all over your cockpit, flour? And are those tiny bits of carrot?"

"I'm headed to the washracks right now," he informed her. "Oh, and you should wash your hair more often. I can see the dandruff flakes from all the way up here."

"Oh, that's nothing compared to the scratches I can see down here," Carly said. "Is having green feet a Cybertronian wedding custom, or are those just grass stains?"

"Want a closer look?" Starscream threatened, raising his foot over her head.

At that moment Optimus appeared around the corner. He stopped, his optics wide. Starscream quickly withdrew his foot.

"We were just joking around," Carly said, saving him an explanation.

"I see," said Optimus, doing his best impassive stare. Starscream thought momentarily about telling him that he knew about Moonracer, but decided it was best to keep what he knew to himself. As long as he knew what Optimus was planning, he would have the upper hand. He adopted a friendly smile.

"Optimus. Maybe you have some tips for me on how to make a wedding speech."

"Me?"

"Sure. You made a dozen toasts at your binding."

Optimus shook his head ruefully. "Starscream, I agonized for three weeks over that speech."

Starscream quirked a grin. "You agonized over just about everything, as I recall."

"I'll be happy to give you some tips," Optimus said, sounding rather embarrassed. "First, don't make _any _jokes about the bride, no matter how harmless."

"I would never do that," Starscream assured him. As if he would make jokes at Ms. Buckrinia's expense! The mere thought filled him with repugnance.

"Second, don't make it too long. Nobody likes to listen to a long speech."

"Don't worry, I hate speeches," Starscream said earnestly.

"Good. Remember those two things and you can't go wrong." Optimus smiled with his optics.

"Any other advice?" Starscream pressed.

"Make sure the first piece of music they play is a short one. Believe me, that first dance across the floor is..." Optimus paused and looked at Air Raid, then continued in a more measured tone. "Anyway, I wouldn't be too worried."

"Because of course she won't marry me," Starscream said, unable to repress a smirk. _If Optimus only knew..._

"You know what I think," Optimus said.

"I've got to head to the washracks and clean up," Starscream said. "Gotta look my best for tomorrow. You should get cleaned up too. You've got pink paint all over your face." Optimus jerked a hand to his spotless face and Starscream threw back his head and laughed. He headed down to the wash.

Optimus called after him, "You're going to be the first mech to spend his honeymoon scrubbing the brig!"

Starscream just cackled.

* * *

He made a real show of touching up his paint. After he was done, he transformed and hovered in place so that the autoscrubbers could go over him with the 100% pure deionized water piped straight from the lab filters. When he was clean he carefully restenciled his wings with fresh sigils and sealed them with a coat of enamel. It amused him to think that in a few short hours he would be covered with dirt, oil, dents and worse.

Then he made Air Raid go through the process. As he waited, he realized that nobody was bothering to clean and polish themselves for the wedding, which meant they obviously did not expect it to take place as planned.

Angrily he went up to the command center and flicked the intercom.

"There will be an inspection tomorrow morning at 9 o' clock sharp and those whose personal appearance is not up to code will face appropriate disciplinary consequences. Such as death. That is all."

Air Raid laughed. "That's one inspection I don't think anyone will miss." Starscream just made an irritated noise.

But it wasn't only Cybertronians who had to be ready. He made a beeline for the human room and flicked on the lights. Spike and Sparkplug were snoring on their cots.

"On your feet!" Starscream barked. "Present yourselves!"

"Wha? Huh?" Sparkplug muttered, flailing at his covers and finally managing to sit up. Spike rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Can't it wait till morning?" he complained.

"Neither of you is wearing wedding attire."

"These are my pajamas," Spike murmured, squinting into the light.

"I can see that. Where are the tuxedos?"

"In the closet. We'll change into them tomorrow," said Sparkplug.

Starscream went to the closet and checked. The clothes were unrumpled and clean. "Satisfactory. Tomorrow morning I expect to see you showered, shaved, and prepared for a formal occasion."

Spike muttered acquiesal and wormed his way back into the covers.

Starscream had to be satisfied with that. He returned to the washing room and was gratified to see that his orders were being vigorously carried out. What other last minute details did he have to take care of? _Oh yes._ He headed to the Dinobots' recharge closet.

"You're exiled. Off to Dinobot island and don't come back until I've left on my honeymoon."

Hissing in the disappointment, the Dinobots trudged out. Starscream watched them with a grim smile. It wouldn't do to let Grimlock think he would fail to follow through on his threats. And anyway, he didn't want them laughing at his dancing.

The unpleasant duty complete, he headed down to the makeshift kitchen and found the bakers flattening out the fondant with a rolling pin.

"Remember, put the proper frosting with the proper cake and don't let the fondant get dry. Any questions? No? Good."

It was 5:20. The night seemed to have flown by. Time for the main event: Victory and Ms. Buckrinia, or defeat and death. Within the next hour he would have one or the other. He headed to his quarters.

He stepped inside, wondering what he would see. There was his computer, still turned off. Beside it was the tiny laserprinter, apparently unmoved. His rock collection lined its shelf and the recharge slab hadn't budged an inch. The only oddity was a faint but reassuring smell of cutting torch.

Starscream glanced backwards at Air Raid and wondered how fast the other jet could draw his weapon. He hadn't given the Aerialbots much hand-to-hand training yet, but he suspected Air Raid might have some natural ability in that area. The white F-15 moved with the easy grace of someone comfortable in his own body shell.

Air Raid was looking curiously around at his rock collection. It occurred to Starscream that the other mech had never seen his quarters before.

"What's this?" Air Raid asked, pointing at a geode.

"That's a geode. I got it during from my old exploring days."

"Cool," Air Raid said.

Starscream felt a stab of guilt. He looked away from Air Raid so that he didn't have to meet the other jet's optics. _It's for Ms. Buckrinia_.

"I've got some work to do," he said, sitting down at his computer.

When the monitor came on his poem was still open. He couldn't resist reading it through one last time, and instantly spotted half a dozen new flaws. He made a noise of frustration. But what was he going to do now? He had to present it to Ms. Buckrinia within the hour.

Swiftly he eradicated three fatally wounded stanzas. He untangled a phrase, split up a mixed metaphor, and fixed an ugly rhyme. Which left only one thing—the conclusion. He hesitated, thinking.

_My love for you I could never disguise/I would like to fall forever into the depths of your eyes/Lose myself forever in your blue sapphires..._ What was he going to finish that off with? What rhymed with sapphires?

"Air Raid, what rhymes with sapphires?"

"Uh...dunno. Campfires?"

"Try again."

"Chaff fires? Uh...Taffy biters? Quaff...erm...tires?"

"Forget it."

But Air Raid was enjoying himself. "Calf mires? Pathfinders? Trash minders?"

"Enough!"

Irritably Starscream closed the poem. He would think of something later; for right now he had to deal with his subordinate. "Huh, it's not printing."

Feigning a puzzled expression, he reached over to the tiny human printer and felt around behind it for the rectifier chip. Power cable, info cable, dust rabbits...no chip. More intently he burrowed his fingers through the dust. Finally he picked up the printer and looked underneath it. Nothing. No rectifier chip anywhere.

"What's wrong?" Air Raid asked.

"Everything," Starscream said, setting the printer down. Now what? What had happened to the twins? What was he going to do without his null rays? He couldn't even stun Air Raid without the chip, and without Air Raid, the whole plan fell apart. Silently he cursed his accomplices.

He sat down on his recharge slab and propped his chin on his fists, glowering at Air Raid. Could he bean the other jet over the head with his geode? _Yes_, _but not fast enough. _Air Raid would manage to get off a call for help, and then it would be all over.

"What?" Air Raid said, eyeing him. "It's not my fault your printer is busted."

"Nevermind," Starscream snapped.

"Well it isn't."

Starscream scowled. If only he could somehow get Air Raid on his side, or even down into the storage room... What would Sunstreaker do in his place?

The idea struck him like a geode to the head. But it would only work if the twins had come through on the hole underneath his recharge slab. He sniffed the scent of cutting torch in the air, reassuring himself that they had.

For a moment he composed his words, then steeled himself and stood up. _Forgive me Ms. Buckrinia!_

Air Raid was looking at him, silently inquiring what they were going to do next. Starscream met his optics and sneered.

"How long, Air Raid?"

"Huh?"

"I said, _how long?_"

"How long what?" Air Raid said, with a slightly nervous smile.

"Don't play dumb. We both know whose side you're on."

"Uh... What?"

"Tell me how long have you've working for Megatron!"

Air Raid's mouth fell open. With deliberate scorn Starscream raised his useless nullray and pointed it into the other's face. Air Raid stared at it, uncertain whether or not to take the threat seriously. Starscream didn't give him time to call the bluff.

"Traitor! We know all about your activities. The secret drops during battle. The way you paint yourself up as Skywarp and make trips to the Decepticon base to report in. The time you let Skywarp overfly the base painted like you and squawking our code. We know everything except how long. So tell me, Air Raid, how long have you been working for the Decepticons? How. Long?"

"M-me? Work for the Decepticons?" Air Raid said, gaping. "You are really off your rocker! You're outta your mind—"

Starscream scoffed. "You think we didn't suspect? You were gushing with admiration for them just a few months ago. You treated our human allies like dirt. We were onto you from the beginning—it was only a matter of proving it. And thanks to my little game of being infatuated with that_ horrid _old woman, now we have the evidence we need." Dramatically he put his foot to his recharge slab and shoved it to one side.

Exposed was a dark, rough-edged hole. Starscream threw out a hand and snapped,

"And I suppose you didn't know about the hole your Constructicon buddies have been digging beneath the base to assassinate me in my recharge?"

Air Raid gawked in astonishment. "I had no idea about that! I was a dumb new built when I said those things! I never helped the Decepticons! It's a frame up!"

"Sure. And I'm a biplane," Starscream said with a harsh laugh. "Do you know what the penalty for treason is? Death! But if you tell us what secrets you've given the Decepticons, I might be able to convince Optimus to give you a life sentence in a tiny, dark, lonely cell instead."

"I tell you I'm not a spy! Y-you have to believe me!" Air Raid stammered.

"Tell it to Prime. I'm placing you under arrest for espionage and conspiracy to assassinate a superior. Put your hands on your head and empty your subspaces."

"But Starscream," Air Raid pleaded. "I'm telling the truth. You can't believe that I would—"

"Put your hands on your head. _Now!_"

Air Raid slowly raised his hands to his head. "Starscream—"

"Empty your subspaces," Starscream said coldly. "One at a time." Air Raid's weapon clattered to the floor amidst a hail of other junk. Deftly Starscream reached down and scooped the gun up, immediately feeling better. "Now we're going to take a tour of your friends' tunnel," he said, gesturing at the hole with the gun. "Down. And don't make any sudden moves."

Looking frightened, Air Raid sat down at the edge of the hole. He lowered himself in.

"Now, move away from the hole," Starscream instructed. "Further. Further..." Air Raid stepped out of his range of view. Instantly there was a clatter of feet and the sound of a door slashing open. "Stop!" Starscream screeched. "Come back!"

The footsteps pounded away down the corridor. Starscream listened as they retreated. When the noise was gone he chuckled and swung himself down into the hole. That had gone better than he could have possibly imagined. How long it would take Air Raid to reach the exit? Less than a minute, surely.

He lowered himself down and dropped onto the floor. Now where was he?

There were several ceiling-high shelving units stacked with old electronics and broken parts marked with daubs of red paint. A thin layer of dust testified to the fact that they were a low item on the repair list. No energon cubes. No rectifier chips. Nothing. He could see the twins' footprints in the dust, but there was no sign of either brother. _Great. Just wonderful. _

Air Raid must be flying out of the base by now. Starscream opened his comm sent an encrypted message to Teletraan relaying the situation—with a small twist.

Instantly alarms blared in the corridor. Teletraan's voice rang out across the intercom system, "Alert, alert! Starscream is fleeing from the base disguised as an Aerialbot. Alert, Alert!"

Starscream laughed as he imagined everyone freezing at their tasks and rushing for the exit. They would see Air Raid running for his life and give chase. By the time everything was sorted out, the real Starscream would be long gone.

He waited two more minutes to give everyone time to clear out. Then he ventured to the door and peered out. Empty silence greeted him. Pleased, he trotted down the corridor, orienting himself by a number painted on the wall, and made his way to a stairwell. He needed some energon and some working null rays, and he knew where to get both.

Storage Bay E5 was another parts room, but it boasted a row of half-filled batteries lining a grimy counter. He subspaced Air Raid's gun and went down the row, snapping the leads of each battery to his energy absorber and draining them one by one. It wasn't great energon, but it was filling.

When he was done he turned to the first of the shelving units and scanned it, looking for his old set of cannons. _Hope Ratchet hasn't moved them. _ Seeing nothing but bins full of bolts, he stalked down the next aisle and scanned each shelf. Nothing but spare Dinobot parts.

He headed down the third aisle, and at once his optics lit on what he was looking for: the pair of castaway nullrays which he had traded out for newer models after waking up from his four million year nap. _Thank you Ratchet! _he thought, blessing the medic's never-throw-anything-away philosophy. He reached out and took the nullrays.

A cool voice ordered, "Put them back, Starscream. And don't turn around." Starscream froze, a tingle of fear running through him.

"Skyfire? What are you—"

"I _said_, put them back." Skyfire's voice had an edge of command to it and Starscream could feel an invisible crosshairs trained on his head. Slowly he set the nullrays back on the shelf. "Now put your hands on your intakes and kneel."

Starscream did as he was told. As he knelt he half turned so he could see Skyfire's face. Instantly Starscream knew there was no point in making an appeal. Skyfire's face was as hard as stone. What now? His only hope was to somehow get the drop on Skyfire and blast him with Air Raid's weapon. But he couldn't do that with his hands on his intakes.

He offered conversationally, "Know anything that rhymes with 'sapphires'?"

"Empty your subspace compartments."

Muttering a curse, Starscream did as he was told. Air Raid's gun clattered to the ground along with a draft of his poem and Ms. Buckrinia's picture. Ms. Buckrinia stared up at him, and instinctively his optics fastened upon hers. Love clenched inside him like a painful fist. Surely it couldn't end like this—not when he was so close! His life was meant to entwine with hers. Destiny had called them together.

Skyfire ordered, "Toss the gun over here. And make it slow and easy."

Her blue eyes burned into him. Starscream hesitated, his hand frozen over the gun.

"I _said_, toss the gun over here now," Skyfire repeated.

With a steady hand Starscream reached out and grasped the gun by the barrel. Then he hurled himself down to the floor. He flipped the gun around in his hands, but it was too late.

The other's gun flashed and twin spears of golden light leapt forth from the double barrels. The shots missed his chest but punched through the base of his intake, searing down his back like tearing fabric. He snarled in pain. Without trying to aim he fired. By sheer chance the blast hit Skyfire's shoulder, and the white armor simply absorbed it. Starscream cursed. Air Raid's gun was a piece of junk!

Icy calm, Skyfire trained the gun upon him and stated, "You can't win. Surrender now."

Starscream fired his heel thrusters and screeched across the floor like a go kart, a shower of sparks pouring out like a bow wave. Skyfire's mouth fell open in surprise and he fired off a reflexive shot. Starscream felt the back of his leg shatter in an explosion of pain, then he smashed straight into Skyfire's ankles. The other jet went down.

For a moment Starscream was trapped under Skyfire's legs. He thrashed and broke free, then twisted around and got his gun aimed at the other's chest, point blank range. But before he could fire, Skyfire's foot swung up from below and smashed into his forearm. His finger pulled and a shot flew high across the storage bay. A cry rang out—not Skyfire's voice. Starscream's optics widened as a dark blue figure materialized in the emptiness and slumped to the ground.

"Mirage?" he exclaimed. Startled, Skyfire glanced backwards. Starscream shot him in the chest. The cargo jet gave a pained cry and looked back, betrayal in his dulling optics. Then he sank to the deck and lay still.

Air Raid's gun fell from Starscream's limp fingers and he let it lie on his floor next to him. "Skyfire?" he breathed. "Are you—"

Frightened, Starscream crawled over to him and examined his wound. Broken remomodule, subspace control hub, catalyzer... _Thank goodness. _ Skyfire would recover. He slumped in relief.

With an effort he stood and limped over to Mirage. He wasn't familiar with the spy's layout, but from what he could tell all the "RIPs"—Really Important Parts—were still intact. _What's he doing here?_ Starscream wondered. Had Mirage been following him? Why wasn't the spy out with the others chasing Air Raid?

He could make no sense of it. Shrugging, he limped back to the nullrays, his injured leg now wheezing and gurgling ominously with each step. He ripped off the rectifier chip that was conveniently taped to the side of one of the nullrays and installed it in his cockpit. Then he swapped out his new nullrays with the old ones so that the chip would match the hardware.

He flexed his arms, testing the weight of the familiar old weapons, and felt satisfied—until a stab of fresh pain rippled down his back and he winced. Reaching backwards, he ran his hand from the mangled intake down as far as he could reach, feeling the hot line. Skyfire's blast had travelled straight down to the waist, a painful but shallow injury. What worried him was that his wounded intake might hamper his flying. If he had lost his aerodynamics, a fast escape would be out of the question. The thought alarmed him.

Next he turned his attention to his leg injury. Quickly his probing fingers found a network of cracks that formed a painful aureole around a hole. There was something wet there, and he drew back his fingers and found them covered with hydraulic fluid. Probably his knee piston. Experimentally he flexed his leg and felt the wound vomit up more fluid.

"Lovely," he muttered. He undid the cover on the back of his leg and felt the familiar hydraulic cylinder, now featuring a jagged puncture slimy with fluid. What could he do? It had to be fixed, or else he would soon be unable to use the leg. Repair tape, that might do the trick. He hobbled to a shelf where he had seen a roll.

Taking the yellow-black checkered tape, he tore off a piece and slapped it over the puncture, then waited for it to grow warm and bond. He blanketed the wound with several more pieces. Then he moved his leg. The tape held.

That would have to do; there was no time left. He put the engine cowling back on and snapped it into place. Favoring his leg, he limped toward the door. At the threshold he paused as a thought occurred to him. He turned back, walked past the crumpled figures of Mirage and Skyfire, and scooped up Ms. Buckrinia's picture.

He touched her cheek and murmured, "I will always love you. Forgive me for calling you horrid. You are the sweet song of my soul." Her eyes seemed to smile back at him, and he kissed her gently on the lips. Then he tucked her picture away and hurried towards the elevator.

The hallways were silent. He made his way to the elevator without incident, then pressed the up button and stepped inside. The lift whirred to life and there was a jerk as it ascended toward the mouth of the volcano. He heaved a sigh of relief. Now he was in the clear.

As the lift rose Starscream sized himself up. This wasn't how he had envisioned himself facing Megatron—wounded, armed with four million year old nullrays, no cluster bombs, no performance additives, no backup. _I really am insane, _he thought, the irony of his own assessment amusing him. _So be it. _If he died, then he died for her. A peculiar braid of love and fear and excitement began to intertwine within him, like nothing he had ever experienced before.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors swished open. He stepped through and headed for the flyer hole.

He swooped up out of the volcanic crater, cool night breezes thick with unexpectedly humid rain smell welcomed him. The sky was starless, covered with deep clouds, and his radar painted a picture of young thunderheads brooding in the distance. Either it was the ozone hole's revenge or some screwed up weather left over from Megatron's most recent climate altering plot. He wondered if rain could activate the chemicals he had used to build the bomb. Hopefully not. _Maybe Megatron will get struck by a lightning bolt. _Laughing humorlessly, transformed and lit his thrusters.

For perhaps the last time, he followed the road leading to Ms. Buckrinia's house. His shredded intake slowed him and he fought to keep control as he bounced through the turbulent air, each jolt sending pain down the rearranged pieces of his back. An uncomfortable vibration began to buzz through his body and he slowed down to still it. _Not good, _he thought. _Not good at all. _ If he had to make a run for it, he would be in deep trouble. There was no retreat now. He would have to fight Megatron to a standstill, or set off the bomb and hope the distraction would buy him time to escape.

He mind turned around the question of how to take down the Decepticon leader. The size of the engagement ring practically precluded flight, though no upper limit had been set for the battlefield. It would probably be a straight shootout then. But how susceptible was Megatron to nullray stun? Suppose the Decepticon leader had plated himself with some kind of nonconductive material to protect his electronics?

Starscream uneasily imagined Megatron standing there and laughing as nullrays poured futilely into his armor. _A good laser blast will fix that, _he thought. He would fire a laser first, shatter Megatron's armor, then follow it up with a nullray, a quick one two. If he could hit the Decepticon leader's face, neck or armpits he would have the best chance of cracking the plating. But those were small targets, and Megatron would be running. He thought of his cluster bombs and felt a wave of intense frustration. _Thanks, Skyfire, 'ol buddy_. At least now he knew what had happened to the twins. They were probably stuffed into a supply closet somewhere courtesy of his psychotic friend.

Below him sparse trees were beginning to line the road. Further on lay the first fields and the hard radar reflection lines of irrigation ditches. Ms. Buckrinia's house would soon appear, and with it the diamond studded engagement ring. Would Megatron already be there?

He did a quick scan, looking for anything unusual. It would be surprising indeed if Megatron _hadn't _brought secret reinforcements. But if he knew Megatron's ego, the other mech would want to beat him fairly and utterly before dragging him off to a pain-filled interrogation session followed by a publicized execution on the Decepticon news network. His remains would probably be displayed somewhere in Vos for the citizens to...he stopped the train of thought. Better just to ignite the bomb; he would not let himself be taken alive. He recoded his processors and dumped his classified info caches. Too bad he hadn't had time to back up before coming.

Then he spotted the dim outline of the house. Across the road was the arena, and standing in the middle of the glittering circle was a shadowy figure. Two minute pinpricks of red light locked onto him, and Starscream felt his battle systems jolt online. His repair system climbed up to maximum readiness. Each servo in his body tensed for action, each cable went iron taut.

In the bloodlight cast by those glowing red chips Starscream could faintly make out Megatron's gigantic frame. The Slagmaker. That was what they had called Megatron when he fought in the games. Each brutal line of his arms, legs, and thick neck exuded strength. And Megatron's strength was not the slow, clumsy power of a gestalt, but speed and skill guided by the keenest tactical mind in the Decepticon empire. A mind that had seen a thousand gladitorial battles just like this one, and won them all. A mind equal to his own. Megatron was holding something long in his hand, but in the darkness Starscream couldn't see what it was.

He forced himself to turn away from Megatron's fiery gaze and found Ms. Buckrinia's house. There were no lights on; she would be asleep, her hair wreathing her neck and her beautifully veined hand resting on her pillow. He imagined her eyelids closed serenely over her blue sapphires. He saw her lips parted and her chest rising and falling in gentle breathing. In his mind's eye he caressed her cheek, soft as down, and stroked her waves of silvery hair. _I've come my love, _he thought, willing the words to float across the winds to her. _I've come to win you._ _I love you. I love you so much._ He searched the window, hoping to see her face just one more time. If he could see her, then he would have no fear of defeat. He probed the darkness of her window hard. Nothing.

He turned away, sick with thwarted longing, and made for the ring where Megatron waited. The red sparks followed him down, down, down, until he felt the crunch of diamonds under his feet.

From the darkness came a chuckle. "You have come."

Starscream set his hands on his hips and grinned. "Hoping I wouldn't show?"

"Worried I would be disappointed." Megatron twirled the object in his hand. As the light of the other's ruddy optics fell upon it, Starscream recognized the shape. A heavy, curved scimitar, the famous blade Megatron had carried during his gladitorial career. Megatron ran his fingers down the glinting edge of the blade, feeling its sharpness. He gave a smile of satisfaction. "I shall enjoy this _short _skirmish."

"Not me," Starscream said boredly. "Beating Skywarp up was fun, but I like challenges."

Megatron gave an ominous laugh. "Let us decide upon the rules of engagement. When you fought Skywarp you fought without your nullrays. It is only right that we decide the outcome of that contest on the same terms."

"Give up my nullrays? Ha!"

Megatron smiled. "In return, I shall give up my fusion cannon." To demonstrate he transferred his sword to his other arm and undid his fusion cannon with a heavy click. "There. Now we are equal."

_Equal indeed!_ Starscream could have laughed. He didn't. He glared at Megatron and thought hard. No nullray, no bomb, no easy escape. To give up his nullrays was madness, but...without meaning to, he glanced towards Ms. Buckrinia's house. There was no light in the windows yet. Would she think of him if she was standing there at the ringside watching?

Megatron spoke reasonably, "What use is a one shot match, Starscream? I could kill you with one shot of my fusion cannon. You could stun me with one shot of your nullray. Why not a _real _battle?"

So Megatron hadn't cheated on the nullray-resistance score anyway—unless it was a bluff. Starscream hesitated, wishing Ms. Buckrinia would look out her window and give him an answer. Would she think he was a coward if he refused? Yet if he agreed, how could he possibly fight barehanded against Megatron?

He turned back to the Decepticon leader and demanded, "What's so equal about you having a sword and me having nothing?"

Megatron pointed to a pile of objects lying just outside of the arena, and Starscream saw that they were all kinds of blade weapons.

"Take a weapon of your choice. Do we have a deal, Starscream?"

_A real battle..._ Ms. Buckrinia would want that.

Carelessly Starscream sauntered over the blades and picked through them. He tried to remember the last time he had used a sword, but all he could think of was his academy instructor warning, "Swords are fools' weapons. You carry a gun for a reason, use it." A rueful smile crossed his lips as he chose a saber with a long, thick blade, edged along one side and sharp across both sides of the tip.

"Excellent choice," Megatron said. "That was my old blade before I changed to this one." The Decepticon leader approached and placed his fusion cannon next to the pile of swords. Reluctantly Starscream stripped off his nullrays and laid them nearby. They both knew that the weapons were within easy reach if either one of them felt inclined to renege on the terms.

They stepped to the center of the ring.

"One on one combat, Starscream," Megatron intoned, raising his scimitar and taking a combat stance. From some nebulous part of Starscream's mind, an urgent thought surfaced. _Oh no!_

"Wait!" he cried, holding up his hand.

"What is it?" Megatron said impatiently.

"Do you know anything that rhymes with 'sapphires?'"

Megatron stared at him blankly, his gaze first suspicious, then annoyed. "Acquires?"

"That's all I needed." Starscream felt absurdly relieved. _My love for you I could never disguise/I would like to fall forever into the depths of your eyes/Lose myself forever in your blue sapphires/As this battle your tender heart acquires. _Now he was ready to fight Megatron to the death.

In an growl Megatron prompted, "One on one combat, Starscream."

"With the vanquished to suffer the everlasting shame of defeat, yadda yadda, whatever."

Megatron's optics widened in something like mortification, and in that tiny moment of surprise Starscream threw himself to the diamond strewn ground. He ignited his thrusters and orange fire flared out behind, saturating the arena with a blaze of light. With a jerk he shot forward, plowing across a thousand sharp pinpricks, and smashed into Megatron's ankles. The Decepticon leader gave a gutteral cry and tumbled forward.

Starscream scrambled to his feet. He whirled around, raised his sword and drove it like a dagger into the armor just above Megatron's armpit. With a crack the metal rent beneath the force of his thrust, and hungrily the blade screeched into the hole. There was the sound of electronics tearing and a shower of sparks escaped the wound.

With a cry Megatron rolled and the hilt of the blade was wrenched from Starscream's hand. He lunged after it and saw Megatron's optics light up in glee. The other's hand flashed out and closed around his wrist, twisted. Starscream gave an exclamation of pain and crumpled over, trying to relieve the unbearable pressure. Megatron's other fist smashed into his face. _Crunch! _ He felt the side of his face break in as his head tossed back. His optic popped and a crack split the world. Megatron drew his fist back for another blow. Starscream heaved himself backwards, painfully tearing his wrist free from Megatron's grasp. He staggered backwards and slammed on his back. As he scrabbled to get up he saw them.

Dozens of glowing red hexagons, jagged triangles, rectangular visors, floating like evil stars in the darkness. A nightmarish gallery of grinning faces watched him eagerly, hungry for the kill.

A low chuckle drew his attention back to Megatron. The other mech was smiling; he stood and casually plucked out the sword stuck into his side. He jabbed it blade first in the dirt, and transferred his own scimitar to his other hand.

"Afraid to face me alone?" Starscream managed to sneer.

"Hey Starscream, we having fun yet?" came Skywarp's voice from behind him. A foot slammed into his back, sending a jolt of agony down the aching laser score. He gritted back a cry. A wave of brutal laughter ran through the Decepticons.

"Again!" someone urged.

"Enough," Megatron snapped. "He's _mine_."

"Aww, I was just saying hello," Skywarp protested. Starscream spared a glance backward and found Skywarp standing behind him on the edge of the arena. The other Seeker's face held the delighted malice of a cruel child. The nullrays were tucked under Skywarp's arm. Skywarp patted them and cackled, "Guess you won't be needing these anymore."

The sound of something falling on the ground drew Starscream's attention back to Megatron. He found his sword lying in front of him where Megatron had tossed it. The Decepticon leader was now probing at the wound in his side, a peculiar smile on his face.

"This shall be a rare pleasure."

"Maybe for you," Starscream complained. "I thought you were going to be harder to beat than Skywimp."

Skywarp's foot laid into his back, and Starscream gave an involuntary hiss of pain.

"Skywarp!" Megatron snapped. Growling, Skywarp withdrew.

Starscream took the sword and climbed to his feet. He tested his aching wrist and found it in working order.

"Let us begin," Megatron said, and lunged.

Starscream barely had time to bring up his blade. He somehow deflected Megatron's thrust and the scimitar flashed past his shoulder—and sank into the root of his wing. He felt his metal give way, felt the blade slide through his body, felt it punch out the other side in a shatter of hot sparks. A cry of agony wrung out of him. The Decepticons roared. Megatron snarled and pressed forward, driving the curved blade in deeper.

Starscream lurched backwards, trying to disengage himself, but the other mech was too close, and pushing closer. He couldn't raise his sword arm—it was trapped against his side by Megatron's body. Almost without thinking he fired his thrusters. The scimitar ripped down through the bottom of his wing in a scream of metal, and then he was free. He shot up into the sky, whirled around to defend himself—but Megatron was not there.

The Decepticon leader stood on the ground, gazing up at him with a fierce look. "Come back down, Starscream, and fight!"

"I like it up here. Why don't you come up and join me?" Starscream suggested, his lips curling into a mocking smile. "Or are we a teensy bit scared of flying?" He tried to conceal the fact that his wing felt like it had been sawed in two. Had Megatron severed the main spar? It felt like it.

The Decepticons were now watching Megatron, not him. Starscream knew the other mech couldn't afford to show weakness. This battle was to meant to prove that the Decepticons were superior. Megatron couldn't afford to show fear.

Megatron merely smiled coldly. "Skywarp. Across the road you will find a house. If Starscream refuses to fight, then destroy the house and its occupant."

A jolt of horror ran through him. He saw Ms. Buckrinia asleep, her eyelashes touching her cheeks, saw her eyes suddenly flash open, saw her lips part in a scream—

"With pleasure," Skywarp said, his face twisting into an ugly smile.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Starscream cried. "Or I swear I'll—!"

Megatron's voice cut through the air. "Let us have real stakes. If you win, I shall spare Ms. Buckrinia. If you lose, she shall die."

Starscream descended and placed himself between Megatron and Ms. Buckrinia's house. In a low hiss he warned, "If you harm one hair on her head I shall make you _beg _for death."

"And if you lose I will make _her _beg for the same pleasure. Now fight—or your beloved dies!"

Starscream gave a shrill cry and flung himself down at Megatron, sword outstretched. Megatron was ready and danced backwards, swinging the scimitar in an arc in front of him. The blades met with a crack and Megatron's blade smashed his aside. Suddenly he found his chest exposed. Megatron whirled his scimitar around and the curved edge bit into his waist with an awful crunch. It was like being pummeled with a club—a sharp club. He could feel the shock of impact from the tips of his fingers to the bottoms of his feet. He was flung sideways and fell on his wing, then toppled onto his rear. There was wetness and the crawling of electricity.

Megatron darted towards him, sword poised to strike. Starscream tried to raise his blade, but too late. The other's blade hacked downwards with a whistle of displaced air and chopped into his thigh. It felt like his leg had been amputated. Hot sparks danced like sprites over his thigh, and there was the crackling laugh of short circuiting electronics. The scimitar ripped free and Megatron raised it for a second blow that would remove the limb completely.

There was no time to think. Starscream transformed and his wounded thigh drew into his waist. _Thrusters, now!_ He leapt backward on a tail of fire. Megatron's sword shrieked downwards and embedded in the dirt.

Starscream finished transforming and lurched upwards, spraying a bow wave of diamonds as he clawed for the sky. Then he was in the air.

"Coward! Come back and fight!" Megatron shouted. Starscream looked towards Ms. Buckrinia's house and thought, _For you, my love. _

He looped around and pointed his nose towards the Decepticon leader's chest.

"Here I come, Megatron!"

He fired his thrusters on full afterburners and roared forward. The acceleration almost _hurt_. 100, 200, 300, 400, 500, 600 miles an hour. Megatron stared at him, puzzled, then his optics widened in realization. He stumbled sideways, a cry of cheated surprise on his lips. Too late. In the space of a millisecond Starscream had crossed the distance between them. Suddenly they were inches away from each other. Starscream could see, in a flash, the chips in Megatron's insignia, a muddy diamond stuck to his shoulder, a droplet of fuel oozing from his side.

His nose crashed into Megatron's torso. He felt his own metal crumple into Megatron's body in a sparking, bleeding explosion of pain. His fuselage wrinkled up like tinfoil. His intakes filled with Megatron's armor. There was a shock as electricity jumped crazily over his body, and then all became indistinct. Far away, he heard Megatron screaming in pain. It was a satisfying sound. Through the haze came gasps of horror from the Decepticons. Then everything was dark.

The next thing he felt was Megatron's hand gripping the side of his frame and pushing. Suddenly full awareness returned and with it, excrutiating pain. He felt his nose slowly tearing free of Megatron's chest, the inextricable mangle of metal straightening and snapping loose bit by bit. Megatron's face was a snarl of agonized fury.

They tumbled apart with a sharp crack. Megatron collapsed on his side and laid there, unmoving. His sword lay on the ground between them.

Starscream tried to transform. His legs reemerged, but his mutilated nose refused to peel back, and his arm compartments were stuck shut as though they had been welded.

"You...function?" Megatron rasped.

"Oh come on! What does it take!" Skywarp muttered from somewhere behind him.

Starscream didn't waste time responding. He concentrated all his strength on just his left arm. Nothing. He tried his right. There! He had his fingers out. He forced out his wrist, then his elbow, and finally his whole arm broke free. Could he get his head out? He reached for the wreckage of his nose and shoved. It yielded a fraction, then halted. He smashed at it, and finally something broke and it fell off completely. His head emerged, almost unscathed, and his optics met Megatron's as the other mech lifted his head and slowly got up onto his hands and knees. Megatron's optics were bright and steady. The Decepticon gave a feral smile. Starscream stared in horror. _What is he made of? _Megatron reached for the sword.

Starscream was faster. He seized the end of the blade, hurled it aside.

"Ha!"

Megatron just smirked. Deliberately he hoisted himself up onto his feet and stood. Almost casually, he strolled off in the direction of the flung sword. Starscream tore desperately at his trapped arm, felt something break. The arm shot out.

There was the sound of metal scraping against diamonds, and Starscream knew that Megatron had picked up the scimitar. Somehow Starscream made himself get to his knees. His thigh felt like it was held together by willpower. The damaged knee cylinder gulped for air and then vomited fluid. He forced himself onto his feet anyway.

Megatron sauntered foward, sword swinging easily in his hand, his face a cold smile of anticipation. The whole front of his body was black with oil and bubbles of energon that dribbled out of the broken seams in his armor, but the only sign of weakness was a quiver that ran up Megatron's sword arm, then steadied.

Starscream backed up to the edge of the arena and circled around, his optics locked on Megatron's. Dawn light was beginning to infuse the darkness with shades of blue. He felt hydraulic fluid streaking wet and hot down to his ankle. Did he dare rest his full weight on the leg, or would his thigh give way? Megatron slowly closed on him. Starscream wobbled sideways around the ring.

The Decepticons began to grumble. Catcalls rang across the ring.

"Fight!" yelled Skywarp.

"Get on with it!" another shouted.

Starscream didn't break his gaze from Megatron. The Decepticon leader just kept coming forward, the grim smile locked on his face. _Why doesn't he finish me? Unless...it's a bluff. _Perhaps the saunter was just to hide the fact that Megatron couldn't move any faster. If he could just keep out of Megatron's way until the other weakened, he just might make it.

"Why don't you come and face me, Starscream?" Megatron taunted.

"Why don't you take a rest, Megatron? You look tired," Starscream shot back.

"Come on, let's see some action!" Skywarp yelled.

"Kill him!" another Decepticon shouted.

"Fight, coward!"

Starscream felt a pair of hands in his back and he was shoved forward towards Megatron. He stumbled down to one knee, and Skywarp's laughter rang across the arena. Megatron lurched clumsily forward. Starscream knew he would not be able to get up in time. He snapped acerbically,

"Good thinking, Skywarp. Poor Megatron needs all the help he can get."

Megatron stumbled to a halt, his optics burning. He stood there, trembling with fury, as Starscream laboriously raised himself to his feet. With careless disdain he dusted himself off, then tottered away around the circle again. Megatron pursued him, ludicrously slow. Starscream noted that the Decepticon's optics were flickering dim, bright, dim, bright. A promising sign. He might have a chance after all.

Starscream searched the arena, looking for his lost sword. It was lying on the far side of the ring. Megatron seemed to sense his thoughts, for he stopped. He walked backwards, knelt, and picked the second sword up. Starcream swore silently. Megatron gave a disdainful smile.

"What a pity you'll miss your wedding." He jabbed his scimitar towards Ms. Buckrinia's house. "But no matter—Buckrinia is the most hideous fleshbag I've ever seen. If I were you, I too would prefer death to marriage." A peel of raucious laughter erupted from the Decepticons.

"Shut up!" Starscream shouted. "She's the most beautiful woman in the whole universe!"

"Then I pity her for binding herself to a _coward _who won't even—"

Starscream's foot knocked into something. Without looking down he knew it was the detonator conglomerate. He reached down, scooped the rock up, and hurled it at Megatron's face. The Decepticon leader raised his arm and the detonator shattered against it in a spray of gravel. _Now! _Starscream took a flying leap, praying that his thigh would hold. Clumsily Megatron swung both swords at him. The first blade embedded in his wing and stuck, the second glanced off the bubble of his canopy. He didn't feel the pain; already he was drawing back his arm for a killing blow. With all his strength he drove his fist into Megatron's broken chest. Mutilated metal shattered in a glorious spray of energon. The Decepticon roared in pain. Without waiting Starscream slammed home a second blow. Sparks cascaded, flames rippled up streams of glowing fuel. A third blow! The thrill of victory sang through him. Megatron buckled to his knees, groaning. This was it! Starscream drew back his fist for one last stroke to end it all—and before he could react Megatron's hand snaked forward and closed around his throat. Thick black fingers dug into his neck like talons, thrusting him out of striking range before he could brace himself. He choked on a cry and instinctively tore at the enclosing fist.

"Well done," Megatron gasped. "But inevitably, Megatron always triumphs."

Another hand joined the first and the pressure increased. Megatron smiled, and slowly got to his feet. Starsceam found himself lifted off the ground. He tore at Megatron's wrists, kicked at the other's legs, then desperately pried at the fingers biting into his neck. He tried to cry out but couldn't make a sound. His optics were fuzzing up. He could feel his neck slowly crumpling in on itself. The pressure built, tighter, tighter. No scream, no noise came from his quivering lips. His hands were growing weak, clumsy. Megatron's hard face blurred into darkness. He couldn't feel his body, couldn't feel anything except the twin pythons clenched around his throat. Darkness, pain, silence...

There was the roar of an explosion and shouts. Megatron howled and released him. Starscream slumped to the ground and lay there on his back. Megatron was now making ragged pain noises. _Optimus!_ thought Starscream with dazed hope. He managed to turn his head in the direction of Megatron's gaze.

All he could see was a wall of Decepticons with their backs to him, looking into the distance at something he could not see. Then as one they parted, revealing a short, wiry figure striding across the road towards them, a heavy tube—an RPG—carried on her shoulder.

"Who dares to interfere?" Megatron challenged.

"You Commie chimpanzees have ten seconds to get out of here before I fire again!" came the wonderfully shrill voice.

"Ms. Buckrinia!" Starscream rasped out. She loved him! She had come to rescue him! She cared for him at last! But it was hopeless—one human, no matter how brave and skilled, could not defeat the entire Decepticon force.

"So. You," Megatron said, annoyed.

"Well? I said get outta here!" Ms. Buckrinia shouted.

"Run!" Starscream cried, but it came out as a croak. "Save yourself!"

There was a harsh birdcry and then a heavy clank from above. Starscream looked up and saw Laserbeak arcing away. Megatron smirked and reattached his fusion cannon to his arm. He raised it and with careful deliberation pointed it at Ms. Buckrinia.

"I shall savor this moment, puny flesh creature."

"_No!_" Starscream wrenched himself from the ground. He felt something tear in his thigh but didn't care. He thrust himself in front of Megatron. _Please __don't let me be __too late__—!_ There was a flicker of momentary surprise in Megatron's optics, then the dark barrel of the fusion cannon flooded with violet light and a solid beam of destruction roared out.

Starscream felt his chest explode in a flash of white hot agony. The tunnel of flame scalded through him, vaporizing a road through his body, and then he felt hot wind scorching through the blackened hole. A high-pitched scream tore from his lips, his back arched, and he toppled. Then all was quiet. Megatron's voice came to him in an indistinct mumble,

"Fool."

Ms. Buckrinia's voice, hard as iron: "Get away from my house or I'll—"

"Farewell, flesh creature."

Starscream lay still. He knew he should get up, fight, win, but his body had nothing left to give. The shadows of dawn grew deeper, darker. A silence more pure than anything he had ever known descended.

Then from far, far away he heard a cry of dismay rise from the Decepticons. Befuddled, he wondered for a moment if they were mourning his death. Then there was the roar of motors. Starscream knew that reinforcements had arrived in time to save Ms. Buckrinia. He listened with all his soul for his beloved's voice. Was she alright? He wanted to know she was safe.

Now feet trampled by him on all sides, there were laser blasts, the cries of the wounded. Yet all was muffled by softly falling snow that was covering up his mind and numbing his body. A distant command, the screaming of jets, the whine of antigravs, then silence broken only by the groans of hurting warriors. Something cold and wet—rain—soothed the pain in his chest. He didn't care. He wanted to hear Ms. Buckrinia's voice one last time. She would come looking for him, wouldn't she? He tried to say her name. She was alive, wasn't she? She must be alive!

Distantly he heard Ratchet saying, "Starscream, Starscream—shut down. Do you hear me? You have to shut down!"

"M-Ms. B-Buck-krin-ia?" he whispered. He couldn't shut down till he knew she was safe.

"Shut down!" Ratchet pleaded.

"M-M-Ms. B-B-B-B—"

"I'm here," came the creaking voice.

"Marr-ry m-me?"

"I will. Now shut down, my love." Then he felt a tiny hand caress his cheek, and all his pain was forgotten. The soft, warm fingers were so tender, so gentle. It was as wonderful as he had dreamt it would be. Now he could rest—after one last duty.

"D-don't...c-c-cry," he forced out. Then the snowfall turned into an avalanche, and all was silence.

* * *

For a long time, he wasn't quite sure if he was alive. There were blurred impressions of frantic activity separated by periods of nothing. Never was he fully conscious; he couldn't quite feel his body and experienced no passage of time. Over and over he felt himself sinking into a luxurious pool of darkness, and over and over the feather light touch on his cheek drew him back. He tried to warn Ms. Buckrinia not to cry.

"Wake up Starscream, I've got great news!"

Starscream jolted awake. He was staring into a too-bright light. Was this the infamous light at the end of the tunnel? Was he...?

Then the rest of his processors came online, and embarrassed, he reached up and thrust the worklight aside. Ratchet was grinning down at him.

"Whaa...?" Starscream muttered.

"You're alive! Don't ask me how, but I pulled you through. Oh sure, I practically had to raise you from the dead a few times, but the point is, here you are. You idiot!" Ratchet smashed him in the jaw. "If you ever, ever pull anything like this again—I will—"

"Ow," Starscream said pathetically, feeling his cheek. Ratchet glowered down at him, then abruptly his face changed to a kinder expression.

"I do have good news. The VEX scan came in this morning. 100% normal."

"It—it did?" Starscream said, sitting up. He gave an incredulous laugh. It felt so good to hear those words! "Wonderful! Now Ms. Buckrinia won't have any last reservations. Is she alright?"

"She's fine."

Starscream stretched, testing his arms and legs. He felt wonderfully whole and the pain was gone. He rolled his head around, testing his neck where Megatron had crushed it. All moved freely. "Thank you, Ratchet! I'd let you be my best man but I already gave the job to Sunstreaker. Where's Ms. Buckrinia?"

Ratchet knocked a socket wrench into his palm and for a long moment said nothing. At last he muttered, "I never thought I'd say this. She's getting ready for the wedding."

Starscream felt like his soul was ascending into the sky in a blaze of joy. Sweet, sweet Ms. Buckrinia! How he loved her, how he adored her! He couldn't wait to take her in a passionate embrace and whisper those words in her ears over and over and over again! Soon he would be her husband and she would be his wife forever and ever and ever!

"We must be bound at once!" he breathed. "Where is she Ratchet?"

Ratchet reluctantly shook his head. "Probably in the human room, but you can't see her."

"Why not?" Starscream cried. "I will see her now!"

"She says it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding."

Starscream brought his hands to his brow. "That's the cruelest custom I've ever heard!" To be deprived of Ms. Buckrinia for one hour, one second—unbearable! Absolutely unbearable!

There was the sound of footsteps from the doorway. Optimus came in, flanked by Prowl. They weren't smiling.

"Starscream. Good to see you running. I'd like a word."

"Optimus," Starscream said neutrally. It suddenly occurred to him that the insanity plea had certain benefits when it came to escaping discipline. "I've got a wedding I need to get ready for at the moment. Do you know if Ms. Buckrinia's relatives have arrived?"

"I need to speak to you _now_."

Starscream frowned at Optimus, but the other gave no ground. Grudgingly he said, "Let's make it fast then."

Optimus turned and walked out, and Starscream followed. Prowl waited until he had passed, then trailed behind. The rear guard made Starscream feel uncomfortably like a prisoner. But what was the worst Optimus could do to him? A demotion was out of the question, and did he really intend to give his own Air Commander a reprimand? The scandal would be the talk of the newsnet. No, it would surely be an unofficial rebuke. Unpleasant, but harmless.

They entered the office, and Optimus sat down behind his desk. The Autobot leader gestured for him to do likewise. Prowl took up his station at Optimus' right hand. Starscream tried not to squirm. He stared stoically at Optimus and waited.

For a moment the Autobot leader was silent. Then he leaned forward and said, "I'd like to apologize."

"What?" Starscream said involuntarily.

"You were sane all along. I was so sure there was something wrong with you that I almost cost you everything. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's okay," Starscream said, flashing a generous smile. "You didn't know any better."

"And now, I'd like an explanation for _this_," Optimus said, touching a button. A hologram sprang up over his desk showing a now-familiar patch of ocean seen from satellite view. Seconds later a shockwave rippled through the water and masses of oily bubbles began erupting at the surface. A few unidentifiable parts were flung out of the ocean and off the edge of the picture.

Starscream burst into laughter, a feeling of immense satisfaction flooding him. "Now my life is all but complete."

"_You _sabotaged the Decepticon base? How?" Prowl asked.

Starscream leaned forward, placing his elbows on Optimus' desk. "Tell me, how much of the fighting took place on the arena?"

"Enough," Optimus said, shooking him an odd look.

"Did it rain there at the end? With mud?"

"Yes. We all had to take turns for the washracks afterwards. Why?"

Starscream stood up and rubbed his hands together, savoring his thoughts. "I didn't actually intend to set the bomb off unless Megatron was cheating. But at the same time, I wanted to—er..." He searched for acceptable words. At last he shrugged and admitted, "I figured that when the challenge was over, all bets were off. That explosive mud could only be set off by two things: the detonator and ions of sodium and chloride."

"Ions of sodium and chloride?" echoed Prowl. "You mean like—"

Starscream cackled and clapped his hands. "Salt water!"

"Salt water?" Optimus said incredulously.

"We use deionized lab water for our washracks, and rain water is fresh," Starscream explained. "But I'll bet you anything the Decepticons use ocean water. The second Megatron's muddy feet hit the shower—" He grinned and threw out his hands in a silent explosion.

Optimus and Prowl were staring at him in something akin to awe. Then Optimus began shaking in what Starscream recognized as silent laughter.

"I suppose I can't reprimand you destroying the Decepticon base, can I?"

Starscream felt like he had just gotten a medal fixed to his wing. He glowed.

"And that's why you kept telling her not to cry," Prowl said suddenly.

Starscream nodded, pleased at Prowl's understanding. "Exactly. Those salty tears would have set off a chain reaction. Fortunately Ms. Buckrinia is a staunch soul. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get ready for the happiest day I've had in nine million years."

With a crisp salute he turned and strutted out of the office.

* * *

First he headed to the washracks and gave himself a full scrub down with nice, cold, pure, deionized water. Then, singing a cheerfully offkey tune, he redid all his paintwork and polished himself until even the smallest movement sent sharp lines of light cascading over his armor. All the time he saw Ms. Buckrinia, her lips smiling warmly at him, her iron grey hair neatly pinned in a bun, her delicate hands stretching out to him. How happy they would be together, how marvelous it would be to live with her every hour of his life! Loudly he hummed the wedding march.

When he was done grooming he gave himself a quick lookover in the mirror and flattered himself that Air Commander Starscream was every bit as handsome as Ms. Buckrinia deserved. Then he headed down to the cafeteria.

As he drew near he could hear the sound of bows singing across violins and cellos. Starscream stopped just before he reached the doorway and paused to listen, his soul flooding with wonder. This was really it. He was really going to marry the love of his life. All his hopes, all his dreams, all his longings...everything was about to come true. _Incredible_.

He entered. The ribbon-bedecked cafeteria was packed with Cybertronian and human guests in tuxes and fine old fashioned dresses, chattering and laughing. The well-polished Cybertronians were dazzlingly shiny under the light of the chandeliers, and nearly all of them wore decorations affixed to their armor. (Starscream had elected not to wear his medals, thinking to look like a normal human groom.) He noted that the humans were for the most part elderly folk, their voices higher pitched and mumbling, overly loud. Some wore hearing aides, others carried canes.

Starscream waved to attract their attention and called cheerfully, "Hi, everyone! I'm Air Commander Starscream, the groom-to-be. Sorry for not introducing myself earlier, but this came as something of a surprise. Last night I took Ms. Buckrinia's hand in the engagement ring, and I'm absolutely delighted to be marrying her today. Thank you all for coming. Please help yourself to the hors d'oeuvres and wine."

The guests seemed pleased, and flowed towards the laden banquet table. A wedding cake on a tray at the end of the table caught his eye. Starscream walked over and admired the finished cake. The frosting was smooth, the cakes luscious and round. It was topped with a bridal figurine and what was obviously a toy model of an F-15 repainted for the occasion. _A nice touch,_ thought Starscream, smiling.

He looked around for his helpers to compliment them on their work. There was no sign of Bumblebee or Air Raid (he wondered what had become of the other jet) but Moonracer and Elita One were standing across the room next to the stage. Suddenly he remembered his upcoming first dance with Ms. Buckrinia—but instead of fear he felt overwhelming eagerness. If he bungled it all, then so be it! Nothing would matter so long as he could look into her sky blue eyes and sway with her.

Moonracer grinned at him and Starscream permitted a cool smile. He waded through the guests and went over to them.

"Well Starscream, this is your last chance to back out," Elita said with a rather grim look. "I've told you before, I don't think this will work out."

"Now don't make him nervous," Moonracer chided.

"I'm not nervous, I'm floating on clouds," Starscream said, laughing giddily.

"It wouldn't kill you to court each other a few decades longer," Elita pressed.

"We've been over this already," Starscream said. "I will marry Ms. Buckrinia now and that's final."

"Who will bind you though? No one but Moonracer approves of your marriage, and she says you won't even let her do it." Elita shook a finger at him almost accusingly.

"That's right. But I have someone else in mind," Starscream said. He shot an apologetic glance at Moonracer. "If you'd like you can be the flower girl." He hoped the gesture would mollify her enough that she would let him live through the ceremony.

"So who's going to bind you then?" Moonracer asked.

"That's need to know information. I don't want the person to have a chance to change their mind."

"Starscream!" came a familiar voice from below. Starscream looked down to see Paprika standing there grinning, a blue goblet in hand. "Thanks for inviting me. I was curious to see how it would all come together."

"Of course," Starscream said generously. "My pleasure. Help yourself to whatever you want. None of this could have happened without you."

Paprika smiled and said, "So, have you got the ring?"

"Well, I didn't quite win the contest, but I did win Ms. Buckrinia," Starscream said, chuckling.

"...What?"

"The engagement ring? The battle?"

"What battle?" Paprika said, bewildered.

"The one with Megatron," Starscream said.

"Uh, I just wanted to know if you or the best man had the ring. Sometimes that gets forgotten, you know."

"Oh, you mean the bracelet," Starscream said, nodding in realization. "Actually, last I saw Skyfire had it. I'll check his quarters."

Starscream excused himself from the befuddled wedding planner and went to Skyfire's quarters. He felt too good to be upset about what had happened now. The whole reason for their fight was that Skyfire thought he was crazy, and that was obviously a moot point now. He would apologize and offer to let Skyfire be best man after all. No need to polish Sunstreaker's ego any more than necessary.

He stopped at Skyfire's door and reached for the controls, but before he touched them the two doorhalves slipped open. Skyfire was standing on the other side, and the look on his face froze all of Starscream's kindly intentions.

"Starscream." The other's voice was formal, the tone that of a subordinate addressing a superior.

"I'll take the bracelet, please," Starscream said, the words leaping from his mouth before he knew what he was saying. Skyfire's face darkened. For a moment he did not move. Then he hissed,

"This is the biggest mistake of your life."

"No one asked for your opinion," Starscream snapped. "Now give me the bracelet or I'll take it by force."

"Force is all you understand anymore," Skyfire shot back, pulling the tiny jewel-encrusted bracelet from his arm compartment and thrusting it at him. "Take it! You're no longer any friend of mine."

Starscream took the bracelet, gave a frigid salute, pivoted on his heel and walked off.

He returned to the cafeteria. Suddenly the warm glow of the chandeliers, the chatter of the crowd, and the joyful strains of the music were all soured. He tried to blot out Skyfire's accusation. Instead he found himself giving moody replies to the guests' congratulations and fuming to himself. _How dare that big white hypocrite say that 'I only understand force!' He should talk! He made me shoot at him; what was I supposed to do, just let him hold me at gunpoint?_ His mind ran through scenarios where he and Skyfire argued it out in front of Optimus. _I'm the victim here, _Starscream thought angrily. _He attacked me first. Anyone can see I'm in the right. _

His thoughts were interrupted by Bumblebee coming up to him and handing him an oversized red carnation. Still smarting, Starscream magnetized it to his wing.

"Ahem," Bumblebee said, pointing at his chest. Starscream stared for a moment, uncomprehending, then remembered and moved the carnation down to his chest where a human would put it.

"You know the ceremony is in fifteen minutes, right?" Bumblebee said.

"What—oh, it is," Starscream said, surprised. He stood and finished his energon in a gulp. And then reality hit him like a fist to the face.

"I—I'm getting bound." His voice was suddenly shaky. Somehow the implications hadn't quite set in before. Him, Starscream, who had never so much as been in love before, a bound mech. Bumblebee was looking at him with a peculiar expression. Starscream muttered, "Do you realize I'm about to get bound for life?"

"Uh, yeah, that's pretty clear," Bumblebee said uncomfortably. "Actually, if you were thinking about backing out, in my opinion it wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"No no no," Starscream said instantly, waving his hands to dispel the thought. "I'm just, uh...uh...new to this idea, that's all."

"Look Starscream, this will never work," Bumblebee said. "No one will blame you if you decide not to go through with it."

Starscream stood up, trying to be decisive. "I love her. That's all that matters."

"I don't know..." Bumblebee said.

"I love her. I want to marry her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her." Yes, he did. He wanted to bind himself to her _forever_. Feeling dazed, he turned and drifted out of the cafeteria towards the command center.

He took a roundabout way, avoiding the red carpet and wedding arch that had been set up in the entry hallway. For no logical reason, he didn't want to see anything until it was actually time to exchange vows. And suddenly he wanted time to think. _I'm getting bound, _he repeated, dumbfounded. _Forever_._ Me, Starscream, married_. The thought was incredible. _Me, married!_ He stopped for a moment in the hallway and rubbed his hands together nervously, trying to dissolve the surreality of the idea.

_What if we're not happy? Suppose she wants children but we can't adopt? Or __what if she can't take the pressure of being an Air Commander's wife? Or what if—no! No! No! No! I love her and she loves me! We will be happy together, forever and ever! _

He fled to the command center.

The attendants were standing in front of Teletraan I, busy with last minute details. Blaster and Jazz were tersely exchanging musical jargon, while Elita was doing a quick rehearsal with the four Cybertronian femmes who had been recruited as bridesmaids. Each had a corsage of white and blue roses magnetized to her chest. Moonracer stood among them, a basket of pink rose petals hanging from her arm.

Across the room Bluestreak and Fireflight, the designated ushers, were going over the guest list. The groomsmen—Bumblebee, Beachcomber, Sideswipe and Sparkplug—were putting on their carnations. Sunstreaker had somehow managed to look even more dandified than usual, and was fussing as Sideswipe adjusted the carnation on his chest. Suddenly his doubts seemed absurd.

_Ridiculous,_ Starscream thought. _I love Ms. Buckrinia more than life. How could I possibly do anything other than marry her? This will be the happiest day of my life. _The thought fortified him.

He headed over and handed Sunstreaker the bracelet.

"Don't lose it," he warned sternly.

"No worries," Sunstreaker said, flashing a grin. He made to pocket it, and it slipped from his fingers and hit the floor. The bracelet bounced, bounced, and rolled until it hit the rut of two adjoining deckplates. It followed the rut and shot straight under Teletraan I.

Starscream's optics flared and his fingers tightened into talons.

"I'll get something and fish it out!" Sunstreaker whimpered. "Don't kill me!" He raced out of the room.

"That figures!" Starscream snapped, glaring down at Teletraan. "Even you don't want me to get married!" He kicked the console, not hard, but enough to vent his frustration.

In a mechanical tone Teletraan stated, "Chances of marital bliss estimated at 0.000000000000000—"

"Stow it!"

"—000000001."

"Maybe you oughtta reconsider," Sideswipe muttered. "Losing the bracelet could be an omen."

"Maybe an omen of your brother's clumsiness. Now where's Ironhide?"

"I dunno."

Starscream turned to the control panel and flicked on the intercom. "Ironhide, report to the command center. Ironhide, report to the command center at once."

"What do you want him for anyway?" Sideswipe asked, kneeling down to peer into the crack where the bracelet had vanished.

"He's going to be the one doing the binding," Starscream explained.

"Uh...you know he doesn't approve of this one bit, right?"

Starscream snorted. "Do you think that surprises me?"

Sideswipe shrugged. "Just sayin'."

Starscream drummed his fingers on the console and waited. Then he realized he looked nervous and folded his arms. He felt the carnation squash beneath his forearm and anxiously checked to make sure he hadn't squashed it. The flower looked okay. He twisted it around slightly to make the petals look fluffier. In just ten more minutes he would be bound for the rest of his life. Bound to the most incredible femme in the entire universe. He paced around the room, people parting to permit his wingspan.

"You wanted me?" Ironhide's voice floated to him over the chatter. Relieved, Starscream nodded and fished a datapad out of subspace, holding it up. Ironhide approached.

"You're going to bind me."

Ironhide put his hands on his hips and gave an amused snort. In a drawl he said, "And just what makes you think I'd do that, 'specially since I think you're being young and rash and stupid?"

Starscream smiled. "You remember before the chessmatch, how you were talking about all the good times we had together? Well, you got me thinking about the battle of Boron Ridge. Sixteenth day of the battle. Ring a bell?"

Ironhide was thoughtful for a moment. "Couldn't forget. That was the day you yanked my pieces out from under—"

"Yes. And do you remember what you said afterwards?"

Ironhide gave a start.

Starscream said pointedly, "As I recall, you said, 'If you ever need anything, just ask.' And now I'm asking. Bind me to Ms. Buckrinia."

He shoved the datapad into Ironhide's hand, and unwillingly the other mech took hold of it.

"But Starscream," Ironhide protested, holding the datapad away. "This ain't what I meant and you know it."

Starscream shot him a severe look. "Your word is your bond. Are you going to keep it, or...?"

Ironhide hesitated. "Ah don't like being the one to make your life miserable."

"Are you going to keep your oath or not?"

"But you barely know this Buckrinia femme! I don't care what that scan said, there's something wrong in your head if you fall in love and get bound within a week."

"Are you going to keep your oath or not?"

"Starscream, you stubborn fool—! Listen to what I'm telling you. This will _never _work. You need to have a proper long courtship, get to know each other, enjoy yourselves. You're just settin' yourself up for an instant divorce."

Starscream leaned forward and pitched his voice low, soft. "For the last time, are you going to keep your oath or not?"

"Blast you," Ironhide muttered. "I'll do it. But I don't like it."

"Thank you." Starscream became aware that the room had gone silent. He glanced around and suddenly all the noise started up again as people busied themselves with their tasks. "Bluestreak, Fireflight!" he barked. "Start escorting the guests to their positions. I'm going out to the muster point. And somebody make sure Sunstreaker gets that bracelet out."

Starscream wheeled and headed out.

* * *

The guests had taken their places along the entry tunnel and the air was awhisper with excitement. Starscream tramped back and forth, back and forth, his hands clenched tightly together behind his back. Any minute now they would start! Had Sunstreaker managed to get the bracelet out? Where was the bride?

His optics darted around, hunting for Ms. Buckrinia. He could hardly wait to hold her hand, and then, when the ceremony was over... _You may kiss the bride. _He imagined their first long, passionate kiss and began to tremble with excitement. It would be his first kiss. What would it be like? Surely it must be wonderful.

There was an electrifying burst of music—the Prelude. Starscream looked around at his companions. Sideswipe, Sparkplug, Bumblebee and Beachcomber were watching and waiting. Nearby stood Elita and the bridesmaids and Moonracer with her flower basket—but no bride. Nor was there any sign of Sunstreaker. He couldn't go up the aisle without his best man.

"Where is he?" he whispered, addressing Sideswipe.

"He went to get a magnet."

"Gold is a nonferrous metal!" Starscream said, despairing. "We're doomed!"

The entry hallway rang with music, but otherwise all was silence. Everyone was waiting for them to walk down the aisle to the command center, for a wedding that couldn't take place, because there was no bracelet.

"Here," said Sparkplug suddenly. "Take my ring." He undid a heavy gold ring from his finger and held it up.

"But—"

"You can make a copy of it later and return the original."

Starscream took the ring gratefully. It was no bracelet, but it would have to do.

There was the frantic clatter of feet and Sunstreaker appeared. "I couldn't get it out! It's wedged—"

"Nevermind. We're using Sparkplug's ring instead. Don't drop it." Starscream carefully passed the ring to Sunstreaker, who received it with equal care. "Let's go!"

Starscream summoned up his courage and made for the red carpet laid down in the entry hallway. The guests were lined up along the walls, hushed with anticipation. Dozens of eyes and optics locked on him. Some smiled, others looked grim.

The music beckoned him down the aisle. He placed one foot in front of the next, and somehow he was marching, marching past the elderly men and women, past his comrades in arms. Ironhide was waiting at the end of the hallway, his back straight and his face solemn. The datapad was clenched in his hand. Behind him were the inconspicuous forms of Jazz and Blaster, playing a gentle precessional hymn.

It seemed to take an eternity to reach the platform. Then suddenly he stood in front of Ironhide. Starscream executed a crisp heel-pivot and took his place at the mech's right hand. Sunstreaker came and stood at his elbow.

The Prelude continued, urging events forward. Elita and Sideswipe marched slowly up the aisle together, split apart, and took their places on either side of the chamber. One by one the next three pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen filed in and came to stand in their places. Starscream knew his optics were glowing neon blue but couldn't do anything about it.

Moonracer walked down the aisle, smiling and scattering pink petals across the carpet. She took her place across the aisle from Sunstreaker.

The precessional theme drew to a close. Then the first solemn notes of the Bridal March rang out and the crowd stirred. All the eyes and optics turned to the entrance. Starscream felt every system rise into unbearable tension. He stared intently at the white square of light where Ms. Buckrinia would appear.

There she was! Ms. Buckrinia stood in the doorway, her slender figure bathed in radiant light. Her flared white gown sparkled with sequins; her train flowed back over the carpet, catching the light like a halo. She wore arm-length gloves. An opaque gauze veil embroidered with floral designs covered her face like a frosty window. She wore delicate white slippers which revealed small, comely feet with each step she took.

Starscream gaped, marvelling at each movement, each graceful step. No empress, no angel could have been more beautiful. Never had he seen anything so indescribably wonderful in his life. To think that within minutes she would be his and he would be hers for all eternity!

Now she was coming up the aisle, now she had come to stand beside him. Without thinking he dropped down to one knee and gently took her finely gloved hand in his. He looked at her, drinking in her sweet perfume, probing at her gauzy veil for a glimpse of those exquisite blue eyes.

Ironhide began to speak. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God and these witnesses, to join Starscream and Miss Buckrinia in matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all people; and therefore—is not by any—to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly—but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, and solemnly." Ironhide paused, as if contemplating the words he had just spoken. Starscream was beyond caring. He was intoxicated by the warmth of Ms. Buckrinia's fingers, blinded by the glow of her presence. This was truly the most glorious moment of his entire life.

Ironhide continued, his voice voice now sounding forced. "Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together—let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

There was the sound of movement from the hallway and Starscream momentarily broke his gaze from Ms. Buckrinia. Dozens of anxious hands were raised high. One elderly gentleman was furiously thrashing the air with his walker. The bridesmaids and groomsmen were among the objectors. Starscream glared at the crowd and snapped,

"Objections noted—and overruled. Continue, Ironhide." He looked back at Ms. Buckrinia and smiled comfortingly. Ironhide paused for a moment, then finally went on,

"Do you, Miss Buckrinia, take this mech to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

Ms. Buckrinia's high-pitched voice was solemn. "I do."

Starscream felt like he was melting inside into a glowing pool of happiness. He felt dazed, euphoric, terrified, in awe. This was it! He was getting married at last! He would be with her forever!

"Do you, Starscream, take this woman to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do you part?"

"I do." By an act of will he kept his voice from quivering. Sunstreaker held out the ring to him. Ejecting a pair of tweezers, Starscream picked it up. Ms. Buckrinia held out her lovely gloved hand. He gently slipped the golden band over her finger.

"I give you ring as a token of my deepest love and devotion, of all that I am, of all that I have." Ms. Buckrinia rested her hand tenderly upon his fingers, and Starscream felt his soul dissolving into pure love. Ironhide continued,

"Then I now pronounce you—"

"Wait!" a deep voice cried.

Starscream jerked his head around to look. Optimus Prime stood boldly in the center of the aisle, his hands held high in a signal to stop. "I have an objection—and you cannot overrule _me_."

"How dare you!" Starscream cried.

"You cannot marry her," Optimus repeated coldly.

"Who says?"

"She doesn't love you. You can't be married."

"Liar!" Starscream shouted. "Leave at once or I'll—"

"Ms. Buckrinia, my beloved," Optimus called. "Come with me. Elita has agreed to the divorce, and we can get married at last."

Starscream's mouth fell open in disbelief. He turned to look at the small figure who was holding his hand. Ms. Buckrinia's shoulders were slumped, her downcast face hidden behind the veil.

"It's—it's true," she creaked. "Optimus and I—we've been seeing each other for months. I always pretended to come up here to complain about the noise, but in fact I only wanted to—I'm sorry. He tried his best to discourage you, but it just didn't work out. I was going to marry him, but...when you saved me from Megatron, I—I—I felt like I had to..."

Starscream felt the universe turning cold and black around him. He opened his mouth to speak, and only a ghastly whisper came out.

"Do you love him?"

Ms. Buckrinia dropped her face into her gloved hands and sobbed one word: "Yes."

Something red hot roared up inside Starscream and his face split into a terrible look. In one bound he was standing in front of Optimus. "How could you? _How could you?"_

Optimus didn't back down. "She's mine, Starscream." He leaned forward and his voice dropped to an insidious whisper. "And do you know what? She'll always love me, and _never _you." Starscream choked out an incoherent noise of rage and took a step forwards. His fists were clenched, his whole body shaking. Optimus' optics narrowed to slits. In a low voice he whispered, "Don't get any rash ideas, Air Commander. She's mine. I love her and she—"

Starscream slammed his fist into Optimus' facemask, felt the metal crack. Optimus staggered backwards.

"You worthless, rotten, slimy piece of _slime_—" he cried. He lunged forwards and threw his shoulder into Optimus' chest, knocking him to the deck. Optimus whirled around to get up, but Starscream pounced on top of him. He drove his fist savagely into the other's chin. "She's mine! _Mine!_"

"Starscream, don't kill him!" Ms. Buckrinia wailed. Starscream was beyond hearing. His fingers had found Optimus' neck and he squeezed as hard as he could. The warm metal began to give. With a ragged cry Optimus drew back a fist and thrust it into his chest. The force of the blow ripped his fingers away, and Starscream was thrown across the hallway. He rolled to his feet and lunged at Optimus again, but the other had already regained his feet. Starscream plowed into his stomach in a tackle. They smashed into the wall, the guests scattering with cries of alarm.

"She's mine, you hear! Mine!" he snarled, driving blow after blow into Optimus' midsection.

"Stop! I got it! I've got the cure!" Ratchet's voice rang out across the hallway. Suddenly Optimus seized him by the arms and held tight. For a moment Starscream struggled to break free, then he realized he had his nullrays on. He let his arms go limp and angled his shoulders, fired. The nullrays struck Optimus' leg, and Starscream kicked the limb out from under him. Optimus went down with a cry of surprise. Starscream fired a second shot. The Autobot leader gave a groan and did not move.

"Optimus!" cried Elita.

Starscream dropped to his knees, holding out his arms to Ms. Buckrinia.

"Come with me," he pleaded. "I love you! With all my being, I love you! Please, please, I beg you!"

Suddenly Ratchet grasped his shoulder. "Starscream, you've been shot with love-inducing emotors. You're not thinking clearly. I can help you if you'll just shut down for a minute."

Starscream didn't look at him. He stared at Ms. Buckrinia, imploring her with his optics to grant his wish. Ms. Buckrinia raised one elegant gloved hand and took hold of her veil. Slowly she drew it aside.

Starscream's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. _No, no, no! It was impossible! _He stammered a few noises. Murmurs of disbelief rose from the hall.

It was Ironhide who vocalized everyone's thoughts at last.

"Carly? What in Cybertron are you doing under that getup?"

Carly sheepishly took off the veil and blushed. "I guess Ratchet can explain it better than I can."

Starscream climbed up from his knees and turned accusingly on Ratchet.

"Okay, let me explain," Ratchet said, holding up his hands defensively. "I'll start at the beginning. First, there was never any VEX scan—that was just to hide the real scan." He held out a handful of processor units.

"What do you mean?" Starscream said, his face turning ugly.

"Don't get angry." Ratchet traced imaginary paths across the processors with his fingers. "You see, to find buried emotors, you have trace where your electrical impulses go to create emotions. If the impulses go awry and route to the wrong emotional center, then you know something is wrong in that area of the processor. Remember how I asked you all those questions to test your emotional responses? I was looking for emotors." The medic reached forward and poked a finger at his head. Starscream recoiled but Ratchet pressed forward and tapped his brow in three places. "You had three emotors in there, only I couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how many at the time. Whoever made them was too tricky for that." Ratchet's voice became almost admiring. "The emotors turned on and off at random and did multiparallel rerouting to muddle the first diagnostic. So I cooked up the idea for doing continuous emotional monitoring on you. While you were hooked up to the machinery I installed a small recorder in your emotional regulator to watch how your emotions played out. Every time you walked by the medbay, the recorder transmitted its findings to my computer. Then it was just a matter of statistical analysis." Ratchet paused, looking rather embarrassed, then added, "Of course, I still had to get you to experience the whole gamut of emotions—anger, excitement, sadness, love, etc. The last ones I needed were exultation and jealousy. The wedding provided the first, and Optimus was kind enough to provide the second." Ratchet shot a rueful look at the sprawled out Autobot leader.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Starscream said. He felt violated at the thought that his innermost feelings for Ms. Buckrinia had been monitored.

"I'm sorry," Ratchet said. "But it was the only way. If you had known you were being watched it would have made you self conscious, and you wouldn't have reacted naturally anymore. Then I wouldn't have been able to tell if I was seeing self-modified behavior or emotor-modified behavior."

"That's why you wouldn't let Skyfire shut him down till the scan came back," Sunstreaker said. "I thought that was fishy."

"Exactly. I didn't think it was wise to let Skyfire know what I was doing either—he would have modified his behaviors too, and Starscream would have subconsciously noticed it."

Starscream said nothing.

Ratchet gave an apologetic shrug and continued, "We knew Skyfire's worries were justified though, so we had Mirage shadow you around. Unfortunately he couldn't follow you into close spaces where you might bump into him by accident. He was waiting outside your quarters when you slipped out through that hole under your recharge bunk. When it got quiet, he got suspicious and checked, but by then it was too late. You and your guard were gone. He trailed you and arrived just in time to get caught in the crossfire."

From the air at Starscream's side came Mirage's amused voice, "That's gratitude for you." The spy materialized at his side.

"You even walked up the aisle with me?" Starscream said, appalled.

"I haven't left your side for the last week—well, mostly anyway," Mirage said. With a chuckle he added, "Good thinking on the escape tunnel. I've never seen anyone do that before. Oh, and sorry for dumping you in the middle of the desert. But I had to set you free _somewhere_."

Ratchet's voice was suddenly all sympathy. "Come down to medbay and shut down for a few minutes. I can replace your processors in no time."

"Of course," Starscream said coolly. "But first let me observe that this experience certainly has been a revelation. Now I understand everything." He walked over to Optimus' prone figure. Elita was crouched next to her husband, tenderly—or perhaps possessively—cradling his head on her lap. "I understand how Optimus tricked me, humiliated me, and convinced Carly break my heart." Optimus gave a groan.

"N-never wanted to—"

"Forget it," Starscream said. He looked down the hallway, and his optics fixed on Prowl, who was standing halfway down the aisle. "And you," he said, trotting over to the other mech. "You were in on this farce, weren't you?"

"I was," said Prowl quietly.

"Of course," Starscream said. He cast his optics down to the end of the entry tunnel with its blue square of sky. Spike was standing there in his tuxedo, gawking. "And you, Spike, did you know?" Starscream demanded. He glided towards the boy, fixing his gaze onto the other's eyes, deliberately not looking at the exit.

"I—uh—no!" Spike stammed.

Starscream turned and looked up the hallway to where Ratchet and Mirage were watching. He smiled calmly. "But I'm afraid there's one detail your plan overlooked." They stared, uncomprehending. "I love Ms. Buckrinia. _ And I'll never let you cure me!_"

Ratchet's optics widened. "Stop him!"

Starscream lunged for the exit and transformed. He threw on his thrusters. There were cries of dismay from below. But now he was hurtling up, up into the blue, the entry tunnel shrinking away. He would find somewhere to hide, then return secretly to continue his courtship of Ms. Buckrinia. If the Decepticons could sneak in unnoticed, then so could he. No one would never stop him from winning the love of his life! He would have Ms. Buckrinia somehow, someday, even if it took till the end of time!

"Starscream, stop!" Skyfire's voice crackled over his comm.

"Never!"

"Then I'm sorry," Skyfire said.

A sudden suspicion filled Starscream, and he followed the line of Skyfire's transmission to find the other jet standing there amidst a mass of boulders, a sniper rifle held to his shoulder.

"No!" Starscream shrieked. He tried to dive. _Too late! _ Light sprang from the muzzle of the gun, touched him, and he felt the numbing coldness of a nullray. The electricity stopped in his wires. His pumps froze and the fuel stopped in his lines. Then his thrusters cut out, his flaps and stabilizers went limp. Slowly the dive turned into a lazy spiral. The world dimmed away.

The last thing he saw before the lights went out was Skyfire leaping from the ground, transforming, and streaking towards him on a direct collision course.

* * *

"Okay, that's it. Give him some space now."

Starscream felt like life was literally trickling back into his body. He felt numb and weak and there was a throbbing in his foot. There was something fuzzy underneath him, and the sense of being surrounded by people. He tried to turn his optics online, failed, tried again, and this time they gave static and he could see a blurry image of the ceiling. A circle of concerned faces ringed his view. Ratchet was hovering close to his head.

"Starscream, you okay?" The words sounded wrong; they were indistinct, quiet.

"Nnnng," Starscream got out. He tried to sit up, and with an effort of will was able to push himself onto his elbows. From the slightly raised position he stared dazedly around the room. He was lying on the red carpet on the wedding aisle. The throbbing in his foot could be traced to the elderly gentleman with the walker, who was whacking him with it repeatedly.

"I replaced your processors. How do you feel?" Ratchet asked.

"Nnnng." Something _was _different—he did not feel anything. The furious passion that had burned inside him was simply...turned off. Had he really found horrid Ms. Buckrinia attractive? Had he, Starscream, actually been willing to marry her? And what insanity had possessed him to think that she would ever marry him? Old and new thoughts fought, and he found he did not love her anymore. A strange, empty calm reigned inside him. It was as if he had lost something and couldn't find it again.

With a groan, he shook his head, trying to clear it. He forced himself into a sitting position and extracted his foot from the old man's attentions. For a moment he just held that position, too tired to do anything else. Slowly he felt the coldness in his limbs receding. His optics were clearing up, the clouds of static growing fainter. Hearing returned, and smell.

"Is he alright?" Skyfire whispered.

"I'mmm okaaay," Starscream said, the words coming out slurred.

"Come here and sit back against the wall." Skyfire and Ratchet took him by the arms and helped him to sit next to Optimus. Their optics met.

"Sorry," they both said at once.

"Don't worry," "It's alright," they said. Starscream gave a weak laugh.

Then he heard it. The clamor and rattling of an all-too-familiar ancient car crawling up the road. Ms. Buckrinia. Strangely, he felt no surge of emotion. And again there was the sensation that he had mislaid something important.

"Just what I needed," Optimus muttered.

Humans and Cybertronians turned, rising on their tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the missing bride. Starscream tried to get to his feet, and Skyfire reached down and lifted him up. He staggered, swaying, and finally managed to steady himself.

The cough of Ms. Buckrinia's car grew near, then sputtered out. There was the sound of a door opening. A shrill voice rang across the clearing,

"Who's responsible for all this racket? I'll call the police on you tin hoodlums, don't think I won't!"

"I'll handle this," Optimus said.

"No, I will," Starscream said.

He pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers towards Ms. Buckrinia. There was no plan in his mind for what he would say; all he knew was that he must have a reckoning with her. He stumbled out of the entryway and saw, as if for the first time, that wretched pinched face with its suspicious eyes and sour little mouth.

"So, it's you! I should have known," Ms. Buckrinia spat. "It's not enough for you to disturb a decent woman's sleep at night, now you have to do it during the day too."

Starscream opened his mouth but nothing came out. A scathing retort was ready and waiting, yet—just minutes ago he would have done anything for her—even died. And she had just saved his life. There was only one thing left to do.

"Ms. Buckrinia," he said, "I'm sorry for bothering you with all our noise."

Ms. Buckrinia stared at him, for once silent. She cleared her throat with a rattling cough and looked at him in disapproval. "Well. Never thought I'd see the spunk knocked out of you. Such a minor scuffle too. Folks nowadays don't have no fighting spirit."

Starscream gaped. "I almost died! The only reason I'm being nice to you is that you saved my life!"

"Ha!" said Ms. Buckrinia, tossing her head. "I did that for plenty of lads during the war. Never saw them all cringing and snivelling like a whipped pup."

"Cringing and snivelling—"

"Clementine Hortense Buckrinia!" boomed a voice. Starscream looked back to see the old man with the walker advancing. The man roared, "So I've caught up with you at last, you deserter!"

Ms. Buckrinia went white. "George?"

"I've been waiting for this moment for forty years," George growled. "Just like I waited at the Eiffel Tower all day for you on the anniversary of the armistice."

"Now you see here," Ms. Buckrinia said, drawing herself up. "I was there too mister, and I can tell you this—you weren't there! I waited all day. No doubt you were spooning with some red-haired French hussy—"

"Nonsense!" George said. "I walked all the way around that tower four times!"

Ms. Buckrinia replied, "I walked around it _five _times."

"Maybe you both went around it in circles," Starscream suggested.

"Stay out of this, you walking spam can," George yelled, waving the walker at him.

"Or what, you'll go get your girlfriend's shotgun?" Starscream said. "This is a cute lover's quarrel, Ms. Buckrinia. I'm so glad we invited George. We'll have to have him over more often."

"Shut up, twit," Ms. Buckrinia snapped. "Come on, George. We'll have this out at my house. And believe me, I expect an hour by hour description of your day at the Eiffel tower."

"And I yours," George said. He followed Ms. Buckrinia to the car and let himself in.

Starscream called after them, "Come back when you're ready to get married."

"Shut up, chimpface!" Ms. Buckrinia shouted, cranking the engine.

The car trembled to exhausted life and then bolted down the drive. Starscream chuckled and turned to Optimus.

"Cross your fingers, but I think we might just have gotten rid of her once and for all."

Optimus looked thoughtful. "I believe the humans of that generation were known for producing a great many offspring."

Starscream gave a shudder.

"So, are we still going to have the reception party?" Moonracer asked hopefully. Starscream looked at her and laughed involuntarily. How had he thought she was in love with him? In retrospect the thought was utterly absurd!

"Why not?" said Optimus. "Only, I think we need to go through the ceremony first."

Starscream's optics widened in alarm. "I'm not going to marry Carly!"

Optimus chuckled and shook his head. "Not you. Me. Elita and I want to reaffirm our vows."

"Oh, alright then!" Starscream said, relieved.

Amidst much laughter and teasing, the guests reconvened and Ironhide again took up his position.

"It gives me great pleasure to renew the bonds of affection between this mech and this femme," he began.

The ceremony was short and touching. At the end, Optimus and Elita exchanged a long kiss, and Starscream clapped enthusiastically along with everyone else. Yet as he stood there his brow furrowed slightly. For the first time he knew what he was missing out on. The vague emptiness he had felt upon waking up made itself known again, this time accompanied by a twinge of regret. _It'll wear off soon. Probably be gone in a couple hours. _

He followed the flow of guests toward the cafeteria.

"Gee, I'm glad you're back to normal," Spike said.

"So am I," Starscream said.

"Well, I wouldn't say _normal_," Ratchet said, and Starscream aimed a playful punch at his arm. They entered the cafeteria to find Powerglide and Air Raid sprawled at a table.

"Hey Starscream, next time you fall in love, let me know so I can get out of the firing zone," Powerglide called.

"Me too," muttered Air Raid.

Starscream grimaced. "Listen you two, I'm really, really sorry—"

"Forget it," Powerglide said, holding up a hand.

"Well alright, but I was going to offer you two weeks of furlough," Starscream said offhandedly.

"Okay," Powerglide and Air Raid said in unison.

"Starscream," Paprika drawled in her honeysuckle voice. She looked disappointed. "You mean to tell me that after all this work you're not getting married?"

Starscream yanked off his carnation and threw it over his shoulder with a smile. "Does that answer your question?"

"Ooh, watch out!" Carly cried from behind. Starscream looked back and found that Carly had snatched the oversized carnation just before it landed on the wedding cake. She was still wearing the wedding gown. Sparkplug, standing nearby with an empty plate in his hands, chuckled.

"Well, well, looks like you caught the bouquet, Carly. You're certainly dressed for the part."

Carly flushed bright red. Starscream laughed. "Tell you what, Paprika—come back in a few years and Carly will—"

"Starscream!" Carly held up a fork in a rather threatening manner.

Paprika smiled delicately at her and said, "Sugar, take my advice. Don't ever, ever, get married to an Autobot."

The band began to play. Optimus and Elita moved out onto the dance floor and began twirling and rocking in the first moves of the Sidewinder. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker gave shouts of encouragement. _Well, I'm spared from dancing anyway,_ Starscream thought.

"Mind if we cut the cake?" Sparkplug asked. "Spike's getting hungry." He put his arm around his son's shoulders.

"Sure," said Starscream, bending down to observe. "The top one is carrot, the second one is lemon, the third one is cheesecake, the fourth one is chocolate, and the bottom one is vanilla." He grinned proudly. "We made it ourselves."

"Wow, lemon," Spike said. "This cake has everything." Sparkplug took one of the silver cake knives, its blade etched with a floral pattern and its ivory hilt wound with rose buds, and cut himself off a piece of vanilla, then a piece of lemon for Spike.

"Guess I'll go for the chocolate," Carly said.

"Moonracer made that one," Starscream said with a nod. "I thought you'd like it."

"It looks delicious," Carly said. Borrowing the knife, she cut herself a big piece and settled it onto her plate.

"Better go easy on that. You need to start watching your figure for the big event," Starscream teased.

"Listen, buster," Carly warned. "You poke me and I'll poke you till your audios ache. And I've got so much more ammo than you it's not even funny."

Innocently Starscream said, "Are you sure you're not related to Ms. Buckrinia? There's a certain family resemblance..."

Sparkplug gave a stifled snort of laughter. Spike heroically tried not to smile.

"Oh, hush up," Carly said. Irritably she stabbed at her cake with a fork. And froze. She peered down at the cake and dug at something with her fork. Slowly she unearthed the long, slender shape of one of the bird embryos.

Spike stared at it, his eyes slitted in revulsion. "What is that?"

"Just an embryonic bird. Eat up," Starscream said.

"This is no bird," Carly said, stabbing the embryo with her fork and holding it up like a trophy. "This is a snake."

"Eww! Snake cake!" Spike yelped.

"Starscream," Carly said calmly. "Would you mind explaining how this _reptile _got in the cake?"

"Uh, well, that's an extremely interesting question," Starscream said, tapping his fingers together. "Unfortunately that information is confidential. Suffice to say I wouldn't eat the rest of that cake if I was you."

"Oh, Starscream," Carly muttered, rubbing her forehead. "Someone's got to teach you how to cook."

"I followed the recipe to the letter," Starscream protested.

"Is this _all _eggshell?" Spike said, staring morbidly down at piece of cake he was breaking up with his fork.

"Yes, the recipe called for a number of egg whites," Starscream said.

"Let's see what prize I got," Sparkplug said, breaking up his cake. His efforts turned up a cake-encrusted twig. "You're kidding me. Is this wood?"

"It's part of a stick of butter," Starscream said. "Why?"

"Let me give you some advice, son," Sparkplug said wryly. "When you finally get married, let your wife do all the cooking."

"I won't have to worry about that. I'm going to stay a bachelor for the rest of my life," Starscream said. "I'm immunized to love!"

Sunstreaker's voice suddenly piped up behind him, "Gee, are you sure Starscream?"

"Absolutely!"

"That's a shame," Sunstreaker said. "Femmes love poetry. You could have made someone very happy."

Starscream froze. Suddenly he remembered—he had left his poem open on the computer. And the twins had been in his quarters all by themselves. He arranged his face into a ghastly grin.

"You know, you and Sideswipe have had a rough week. How would you like another two days of furlough, to cleanse the trauma from your memory banks?"

"I'm not sure," Sunstreaker said laconically. "It might take longer—a week, I'd say. Then again, I've been thinking how much fun it would be to start a poetry club."

"A week, eh? That could probably be arranged. Yes, I think a week off would do you good." He put an amiable arm around Sunstreaker's shoulders. "Let's go talk to your brother, shall we? Ah, Sideswipe, there you are." Sideswipe, caught in the act of gulping down an energon cube, gave a cheerful wave. "You'll be happy to know that Sunstreaker and I have come to an arrangement."

"Cool," Sideswipe said with an angelic smile. "What is it?"

"An extra week of furlough for my most valuable soldiers," Starscream said. "Yes, it pained me deeply to think that Skyfire locked you in a utility closet with nothing to read but Spike's secret hoard of Batman comic books. Truly, a cruel experience. But not to worry; this trip will cleanse your memories of the whole unhappy incident."

"After reading all those comic books, we sure are in the mood for something more deep and sensitive, like poetry," Sideswide said. "Two weeks of furlough would be perfect to catch up on our reading."

Smiling, Starscream nodded. "Tell you what—I'm in a generous mood right now. By all means, take two weeks. I won't need your help for awhile anyway—I'll be too busy trying to figure out who hacked into my personal computer and stole classified files. The responsible parties will no doubt be spending a long, unpleasant time hooked up to a truth register in order to prove that they're not double agents."

Sideswipe looked meditative. "Then again, vacation can get wearisome after awhile. Perhaps just one week would be sufficient."

"Oh, alright," Starscream said, surprised. "If you're sure."

"Positive," Sunstreaker stated.

"I'll let you get packing. Now I think—aaaack!"

She came out of nowhere, like a pink whirlwind. One minute he was having a civilized conversation with his blackmailers and the next second Elita had grabbed his arms and yanked him onto the dance floor.

"Come on, Starscream," she said. "Let's show everyone what you've learned."

"B-but—" he stammered, feeling his hydraulics congeal. "I can't remember—"

Elita chuckled and seized his hands. "The only hard part is the slip. All you have to remember is to just pretend you're a tree, and—"

"Leave!" Starscream said, and tried to yank himself away. But Elita had a grip like Megatron. She gave a tinkling laugh and pulled him back.

"Now, now, Starscream, you aren't going to deny the bride a dance, are you?"

"You're not a real bride," Starscream said, trying to wriggle his hands out of her deathgrip.

"Such a kidder. Now, back and forth, then spin around just like we practiced." She took a step backward and he was forced to follow. Forward, back, forward, he twirled her around. Now the dreaded slip. Elita began the ridiculous side-to-side hop.

Wretchedly Starscream began to jump in sync with her, his heels clashing against the deck in a din that echoed across the cafeteria.

"Yeah, go Screamer go!" shouted Sideswipe.

"Do the petrorabbit hop!" Sunstreaker yelled, stomping out a beat with his foot.

_They die tonight,_ Starscream vowed as he jumped side to side. Now everyone else was stomping too, in perfect sync with his movements; it sounded like a regiment was marching past. He knew everyone was watching him, waiting for the ultimate humiliation, the crowning embarrassment of an entire week of embarrassments. Soon his foot would slip; soon he would step on Elita's toe; soon he would smash something with his wing. Each actuator in his body was taut with anticipation of the waves of laughter that would roll through the cafeteria. There were even wedding videographers to capture the stupidest moment of his life and broadcast it on America's Funniest Home Videos so that a whole nation could laugh and vote him the most clumsy robot in the U.S.A. The Decepticons would make a propaganda holo out of it and play the event over and over for the next thousand years. The commentators would have some acidic remark about why the Air Commander was dancing with the Prime's bondmate and it would become a comic meme. The incident would haunt him for the rest of his life; every talk show host would bring it up and he would have to laugh it off good naturedly. There would have to be a chapter in his biography dedicated to explaining the circumstances in ghastly detail. When the war was over people would forget everything about him save for his name and the fact that he was a lousy dancer who had the nerve to think he could—

Elita released him, beaming. "Wonderful! That was excellent!"

Starscream stared at her dumbly. "I-is it over now?" Through some miracle had he made it through the whole ordeal without messing up?

"Unless you want to do it again?" she said, grinning as she held out her hands.

Starscream backed away, shaking his head and chuckling nervously.

"Watch out!" Elita cried.

Starscream felt his heel crunch on something and there was a horrible wet squelch. For a microsecond he froze as his mind tried to process what made a crunchy, squelchy noise when he stepped on it.

"_Spike!_"He ripped his foot up and whirled around. There was a broken table and shattered dishes; the wedding cake was squashed. Starscream ran a hand down the side of his face. "Thank goodness!" He began to laugh involuntarily, covering his optics and shaking from sheer relief. "Thank goodness."

When he lowered his hand he realized Spike, Sparkplug and Carly were staring at him with pallid faces. Behind them, Skyfire and Moonracer were trying heroically not to laugh.

"That does it," Starscream said. "From now on bells will be mandatory for all humans on base—no exceptions!"

"Fine by me," Spike muttered.

Skyfire broke the awkward silence by taking out a rag and tossing it to him. Starscream caught it and began wiping the cake off his thrusters. Moonracer shook her head ruefully.

"So much for my hard work. Somehow I knew that cake was doomed."

"It was inedible anyway," Starscream admitted. Moonracer just snorted. Then, as if on a whim she turned around and grabbed Skyfire by the hand. "Come on, Skyfire. Let's dance!"

"But I'm too big," Skyfire protested.

"No you're not," Moonracer said, grinning as she dragged him out onto the dance floor. "Let's do the Sidewinder."

With an embarrassed sort of good grace, Skyfire took Moonracer's hands. A cheerful melody began and together they danced lightly across the room, Skyfire ponderous and dignified, Moonracer quick and fluid.

Suddenly Starscream had a flash of insight. He knew why Moonracer was always hanging out in the laboratory when he and Skyfire were working.

Grinning, he found a chair and sat down to watch.

* * *

"All hail Skywarp! All hail Skywarp!" chanted Discord with the others. It was a small, thin chorus. Skywarp drew his fist to his chest in a salute and sat down in Megatron's throne. Thundercracker approached and knelt on one knee.

"I swear my loyalty and life to Supreme Commander Skywarp forever."

Skywarp nodded impassively and gestured for Thundercracker to rise. The blue Seeker inclined his head respectfully and returned to his place. Soundwave approached and knelt.

"I pledge my eternal and loyal support to Supreme Commander Skywarp."

"Cool," Skywarp said with an impish grin.

Discord felt like dying. So it had come to this. She and Disharmony would be directly responsible for the fall of the Decepticon Empire. They had killed Megatron, sabotaged the entire Earth mission, and put an idiot into power.

One by one the others presented themselves. Discord was disgusted when Disharmony flickered her optics suggestively at Skywarp. And there was that little extra edge of warmth when she swore her undying devotion to him for all eternity. _Traitor,_ she thought. The lure of rank, power, prestige had overwhelmed Disharmony's weak principles—and no doubt she wanted Skywarp on her side in case someone ever found out who was responsible for the whole mess. Discord was certain that Disharmony would find herself dumped within the year, and wouldn't that do her a lot of good when the truth came out? _Serves her right, the little turbovixen._

Then it was her turn. She forced out,

"I present my life and my talents to the Supreme Commander." Without meeting Skywarp's optics, she rose and returned to her place.

When the hoopla was over, Discord headed straight to her quarters to burn off the humiliation. Fortunately both the guest quarters and the medbay were on the far end of the base, away from the showers and the still-smoldering remains of the arsenal. She had been sitting on a workslab getting her arm repaired when the explosion had knocked her off the table and the lights had gone out. Then a wall of water had flooded the room.

Now, four days later, everything was still drying out. Here and there a dead bottom dweller was rotting in a puddle of its own slime; sediment clung to the floor and showed the footprints of every passerby.

She stepped into her quarters and sat down at her desk with a deep sigh.

"Ah, there you are."

Discord looked around sharply. Disharmony had risen from behind her recharge berth, the sniper rifle held to her shoulder. Unconsciously Discord drew back in her chair, her hands clenching the arms. "What are you doing?"

"Sorry, Discord. Skywarp and I are going to be very happy together, once I've convinced him that I'm the right femme for him." Disharmony smirked and gave the stock of the sniper rifle a little pat. "But you know too much. You might be tempted to try your luck too."

"Are you _insane?_"Discord hissed. "You'll never get away with it. When Skywarp finds out, he'll be furious—"

"Nonsense," Disharmony said. "He won't even care. You don't understand psychology, Discord."

"I understand treason! I understand a firing squad!"

"Goodbye."

"Disharmony, no—!"

Disharmony pulled the trigger and nothing happened. Disharmony stared, open mouthed, then realized. Her hand flew to her forehead. She could feel nothing, but she knew what had happened.

"You dare!" she cried, jumping to her feet. "I'll kill you!"

Disharmony fired again and Discord lunged for the weapon. She felt a minute prick in her forehead, then she wrenched the gun from Disharmony's hands and hurled it across the room.

"You're dead!" she cried, reaching towards the subspace where she kept her pistol. Before she could complete the motion, Disharmony pulled out a sheet of plastine and pushed it into her face—a picture of some blue and black flyer she had seen around the base. A particularly _handsome _flyer.

"His name is Dirge," Disharmony said sweetly. "I accessed his personnel file and did all the calculations, and he's the perfect match for someone of your personality type and interests. You two will have lots to talk about."

Involuntarily Discord stared frozen at Dirge. She knew exactly what was happening, but strangely it didn't seem to matter. All she could do was gaze in wonder at the serious, thoughtful optics, the strong square chin, the sensitive mouth and the graceful point that his head drew into.

"Cute, isn't he?" Disharmony said. Discord nodded dazedly. "Go to him, Discord," Disharmony urged. "Go to him now!"

Without thinking Discord turned and floated for the door.

_Dirge!_ She had to find him! Her feet raced over the deck, the corridors scrolling by without notice.

Then she saw him, and he saw her. Their optics met. And Discord knew in the deepest part of her soul that they would be together for all eternity.

"Dirge!" she cried, and threw herself into his strong arms.

* * *

Starscream lay on his slab, staring up at the bubble-shaped ceiling light. His mind conjured up a picture of Ms. Buckrinia. The thought was an unpleasant one, but this time he didn't push it away. There was still so much he had to chew on before he could put the incident behind him. Particularly the bothersome void that was still making itself felt a whole week after he had fallen out of love.

_So. Now I know what it's like to be in love._ In some peculiar way, he was almost sorry the feeling was gone. _Why?_ _That was the most humiliating week of my life. __Who'd want to act like that all the time? _His mind knew his feelings were absurd, but there they were anyway. The world seemed almost bland now.

_Have I become an addict? _he thought worriedly. He knew that certain drugs were so potent that they made a permanent mark in the victim's psyche and produced a craving after just one dose. Perhaps the emotors had made him a love addict, and he would fall for one femme after another for the rest of his life. The thought made him cringe. No, he didn't want that.

Slowly his thoughts turned to Optimus and Elita, and their renewed vows—_that _was what he wanted. One special person to share it all with. If he could have someone truly worth it, and if he could love that someone and be loved in return, that would be wonderful. He remembered his dreams of what married life would be like with Ms. Buckrinia, and found that his empty quarters suddenly felt lonely.

_Bzzzzzzzzzz. _ The door buzzer sounded.

"Enter!" he called gratefully, sitting up. The doors slid open and Carly peered in with a dingle of the bear bell tied around her wrist. The wedding dress was gone, replaced by her Beavers jacket and jeans.

"This bell makes me feel like a cow," she said.

"You just left yourself wiiiiide open," Starscream said, chuckling. Carly groaned.

"Hey, can you do me a favor? I need some help with my thesis."

"Sure, why not? Come sit up here with me." He held his hand down and Carly climbed on. Carefully he deposited her on the slab next to him.

She held out a datapad. "Take a look at the integral series at the bottom."

"The Fraxfall series?" he asked, peering down at the teensy text.

"Is that what the call it on Cybertron?"

"Yes, but our version doesn't include that," Starscream said. He pointed to the line where Carly had added without multiplying first. Carly stared for a moment, then gave a cry of annoyance.

"How did I miss that? I've been staring at this stupid thing for hours!"

"If I was Skyfire I would tell you to take a break," Starscream said. "When you can't remember the order of operations, that's trouble."

Carly sighed. "Maybe you're right. Tell you what, let's get out of here and go somewhere."

"Where?"

"I dunno. Somewhere I can get an emulsified—" she laughed, her voice a trifle high pitched. "I mean, a chocolate soda."

"I've got nothing better to do," Starscream said, shrugging. In a spurt of generosity he offered, "I'll buy."

"Wow, thanks."

He let her climb into his palm. "Don't mention it. I remember when I was a starving student. Hey, did you read that article I sent you?"

"Yes! It was fascinating. Actually though, I thought the analysis at the end was a bit wishy-washy..."

They chatted, and Starscream knew that he had a pleasant evening to look forward to. Carly was always reading, so she always had something interesting to say.


End file.
